


Breathe, then Repeat

by TheSecretUchiha



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Don't read if you haven't seen the movie!!, Fix-It, Gen, Now a chaptered fic, Spoilers, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Tony and Peter taking care of each other has become my life, but seriously, discussions of mental health, it's a rollercoaster ride, protect this boy, so brace yourself?, take care of Peter, there's a lot of ups and downs here, what is my life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-29 00:17:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 102,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14460936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSecretUchiha/pseuds/TheSecretUchiha
Summary: [Infinity War Spoilers]Peter exhales and his body turns to dust.Then, he breathes.~Peter remembers it all; sneaking into a spaceship, the fight against Thanos, losing... (the way Mr Stark's face had crumpled while holding him).That's not going to happen again, he'll do anything to stop it. Anything.





	1. Breathe, then Repeat

**Author's Note:**

> I was supposed to finish my 150,000 word nanowrimo today, but I watched the movie last night and well...
> 
> I wrote this because I am in pain. Everything was too tragic, but I literally spent the whole movie telling myself that I can deal with anything as long as Peter's ok.
> 
> I've only seen the movie once so far so there might be a few slightly off parts. Also this was entirely just to get it off my chest. I wanted a fix-it but the fix-it I wanted was a long, time travel, slowly changing things and being vaguely sneaky about it. This is not that fic, I don't have time for that fic so I wrote this one instead. If anyone wants to take this any further, feel free but please let me know!!

Peter exhales and his body turns to dust.

 

Peter takes a step back.

He glances at the gleaming new suit displayed only meters from his fingertips. “Thank you, Mr Stark but I’m,” he takes a breath, “I’m good”

“You’re good? How are you good?” Mr Stark actually stumbles over his words for a second but Peter barely notices.

He takes a breath.

“I – I mean I’d rather just stay on the ground for a little while; friendly neighbourhood Spiderman. Someone’s gotta look out for the little guy, right?”

That’s what Mr Stark told him to be, and maybe he’s finally coming to terms with the idea; focusing on the smaller problems, letting others take care of the bigger ones, at least for now…

“You turning me down? You better think about this. Look at that, look at me.” Peter glances at the suit, and it’s tempting, it’s so, _so_ tempting to accept because that suit looks freaking awesome.

“Last chance, yes or no?”

Peter takes a breath.

“No.”

Peter takes a breath and steps back.

Then his vision goes black.

 

He comes to on the ground, pain tearing through every cell, every atom in his body still feels the pain of being torn from its neighbour and sent drifting out into space, through the very fingers that clutch desperately to him now.

He opens his eyes and Mr Stark is still there, but Titan is gone. There’s a roof over their heads, a hard, polished floor under him, and one Happy Hogan peering over Mr Stark’s shoulder, looking more concerned than he’s ever seen him before.

But he barely takes any of that in because Mr Stark is right there; right in front of him saying his name, pressing a hand to his brow in panic and shouting orders at Happy.

He can’t describe the sound that comes out of his mouth with any word except desperate when his arms, still dirtied and bruised from fighting on a dusty, dead planet, snap up and coil like irons around Mr Stark’s back.

“Kid, stay still,” Mr Stark demands, trying to push him back to the ground but no force in the universe except Thanos himself (and Peter’s chest tightens at the very thought of his name) could pry his face out of Mr Stark’s neck.

“You’re alive,” he murmurs into the skin, but it doesn’t feel enough so he repeats it, again and again as tears smear into the cologne scented skin and nicely-pressed collar between them.

Mr Stark’s arms come up, wrapping around his back and pulling him in tighter until Peter’s unrepentantly sitting in his lap, on the cold hard floor of the Avenger’s base in upstate New York.

“I’m fine, kid. I’m fine,” Mr Stark whispers, soothing but confused, in his ear. “You’re ok too, you’re fine. Just breathe with me, ok? Breathe with me.”

Peter takes a breath. He sits, chest to chest with Mr Stark, forehead pressed to his neck, and he breathes.

This could be a dream. Maybe he did die, and after death you simply dream of your life until the whole universe crumbles to dust.

Or maybe, he remembers flashes of green, this is all real and there’s still time.

He freezes, struck by the thought, by the possibility, then he breathes again, sucking in a huge breath and pushing backwards, away from Mr Stark, and stumbling to his feet.

He looks to Mr Stark, to Happy, then back to Mr Stark and there must be something in his expression because Mr Stark’s eyes harden and he pushes himself back to this feet quickly, “What is it, kid? What do you need?”

Peter doesn’t know where to start, doesn’t know how to explain that he needs _everything_ because otherwise there’ll be (he’ll be) _nothing_.

“I – We –”

A door clicks open and a swarm of voices suddenly spill into the room. Peter turns to look, nerves on a knife-edge, only to relax when Ms. Potts appears, taking in the scene with slight bewilderment.

“What’s going on? The reporters are getting impatient, Tony.”

She glances around the three, frozen men, eyes-widened at the sight of Peter’s face and he realises, distantly, that if his hands are any indication, his face is probably similarly smeared with dust and blood.

“What happened, Peter!” she cries, hurrying over to him and he can’t help but instinctively flinch back when she reaches for his face.

“Pep, wait, something’s going on,” Mr Stark tells her softly, pulling her back from Peter gently by the arm, “Something’s wrong.”

It’s a testament to how unfortunately used to the crazy life they live she’s become that she hesitates for a moment only to give Peter another concerned glance before turning on her heels, “I’ll cancel the press conference.”

Her heels click twice on the floor before his brain puts everything together, runs it through equation after equation and arrives at the best result it can.

“Wait!”

She stops, glancing back with a tight-lipped frown that he can tell is a cover for her fear.

She’s right to be scared, Peter thinks bitterly for a moment, she just doesn’t know that yet.

“It wasn’t a test, there are reporters through there right now?” he asks, staring directly at her rather than Mr Stark because he trusts Ms. Potts not to lie to him about anything regarding reporters.

“Of course, there are, why would you…” Something clicks and she turns exasperatedly to Mr Stark, ready to verbally flay him but there’s no time for that.

“I’ll join,” he declares forcefully, turning to face Mr Stark again with resolution unwavering in his eyes, “You asked what I need and this is it. I need you to give me that suit and then we need to get started. It all starts now.”

He leaps back over the small distance his breakdown has put between him and the suit before anyone can react to his declaration, inspecting and admiring the Iron Spider suit in a way he’d never had the chance to before.

“It disengages here,” Mr Stark says, gesturing to the spider on the suit’s chest. He hits the button, and the suit retracts completely within the symbol which he catches easily in his hand before passing it to Peter.

“Here, to put it on you just-”

Peter activates the suit with a deft flick of the wrist; just seeing it activated once, on the edge of Earth’s atmosphere, was enough for him to get the hang of the Ironman-inspired technology.

“Just like that, yeah,” Mr Stark murmurs and Peter’s itching to go, the suit bringing back all the adrenaline from their last fight against Thanos, but Mr Stark grasps him, holding him still with a hand on either side of his face.

“What’s going on, Peter. Right here, right now, tell me what’s happened before we take a single step into that room.”

Peter reaches up, pulling the mask from his face quickly so there’s nothing between them. Mr Stark’s hands don’t shift even as the fabric slides from under them, and his fingers instantly tangle into Peter’s grimy, dishevelled hair.

“Mr Stark, if I remember right we just had some kind of talk about trust, and communicating with each other.”

“If you _remember right_?” Mr Stark interrupts, “Were you not-”

“Please listen,” Peter says softly, cutting him off before he can get mad, and Mr Stark does; he stops, his mouth snaps closed and he nods as he stares directly into Peter’s eyes.

“I trust you, Mr Stark, I’ll tell you everything you need to know,” he promises. “But not just now. Just now you need to trust me too, you need to let me go say what I need to say in front of those reporters and trust me when I say that we can all work this out, we’ll find a way.”

Brown eyes are scouring his face and Peter can tell he’s going to be stubborn, put his foot down and demand he explain everything now.

“Peter, what happened to you?” is what he asks instead, soft and, for once, slightly scared.

Peter reaches up, holding the hands on his face with his own suit-encased palms, “Trust me, Mr Stark.”

He waits, watching the internal battle that takes place, the same that he always sees when it comes to trying to shield Peter from the world, but eventually Mr Stark nods.

Peter gives the hand one more squeeze before jumping back, pulling the mask back over his head and throwing the door to the conference room open.

 

The reporters, and there’s a few more than the fifty Mr Stark promised, by Peter’s reckoning, turn like sharks scenting blood when he strides through the door.

He makes it to the podium before they all explode with questions; is he an avenger, what happened with the Stark plane, tell us about your new suit, who are you…

Peter’s not here to answer their questions, well, not most of them anyway. He stands behind the podium at the front of the room and then, because screw it why not, he jumps on top and takes a seat with his legs dangling over the front edge, feet hanging over the Avengers symbol the metal is engraved with.

He waits.

It’s physically painful, the clock is ticking down to the end of half the universe, to his own body being turned to ash and then disintegrating further, there is _no time_.

But there is just now, for this, there is time because this is where things change.

It’s five minutes before things start to quieten; ten before the last few reporters sit back into their seats to wait patiently with their fellows.

He makes them wait another minute while he breathes, and he can see a few itching to leave in irritation but there’s no way anyone will willingly leave this room until he’s finished and he can use that.

“Here’s how this is going to go,” he tells them, voice cold and serious. “I’ve had a really, _really_ ,” he chokes slightly on the word, “bad day, so I’m going to speak and you’re going to listen. Anyone who tries to interrupt before I’m finished is out and believe me that’s not in your interests. Do you understand?”

He wishes he could feel joy at watching seventy-odd adults nod silently in agreement but his heart is still racing and panic is running through his blood so intertwined with his very existence that he doesn’t think it’ll ever leave him.

He takes a breath.

Then he takes another and reaches up to pull his mask off, blinking quickly and shaking his hair out, “My name is Peter Parker, I’m 15 years old, from Queens.”

Immediately the reporters shift, all starting to surge up in their chairs in an instinctual response, but, somehow, they’ve all picked up on the mood of the room, and one by one they sink back into their seats and wait for him to continue.

“I don’t want to tell you about me, I don’t even want you to know who I am,” he laughs bitterly, “But what I want doesn’t matter. What you want doesn’t matter. Everything that’s happened on the Earth since superheroes started popping up a few years back doesn’t matter. You think you know bad? Nothing can compare to what’s coming, what we have to prepare for, so listen up.”

He sits straighter, takes a breath that feels like a rock in his throat, and stares straight into the closest camera with the bravest face he can muster.

“Captain America, Black Widow, Falcon, Scarlett Witch, Bucky Barnes, Black Panther, Hawkeye, Small-Big Dude…” he looks to the door he’s come through where Mr Stark, Ms Potts and Happy watch, “Iron Man, War Machine, Vision… Thor, Loki, Dr Banner… Dr Steven Strange… Peter Quill, Drax, Mantis, and whoever else is part of your Guardians of the Galaxy… Anyone in the universe with the strength to stand and fight, anyone who hears this message, this is a call out. Everything that’s happened until now is worthless, put it behind you and get over yourself. Nothing you’ve fought over is worth anything, not any more. Because this isn’t about one person, or one city. This isn’t about the Earth. This is about the whole damn universe and it’s time to get ready because otherwise half of it will be turned to dust, half of _us_ will be turned to dust, and this is our only chance to stop it. Thanos is coming, and we need to be ready.”

He stares around the room, eyes slightly blurred by tears but still able to see the anxious expressions of the reporters listening to his every word.

He nods.

“That’s all, thank you for your attention.”

There’s questions but Peter is out the door, Mr Stark wrapping a hand back around his shoulder before the door even falls closed. There isn’t _time_.

“Tell me everything, Peter,” Mr Stark demands roughly and Peter slumps in relief because his voice is forceful, commanding, and almost aggressive, but there’s no doubt in it.

Peter takes a breath, and lets it fills his mouth. There’s no dust in the air, or blood on his tongue; it tastes like hope.

“It all starts on April 27th, 2018. It ends then too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Please cry with me in the comments.


	2. Breathe, then Focus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter begins to tell Tony what happened.
> 
> Tony feels the ground drop out from underneath him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS NO THIS WAS NOT MEANT TO BE A CHAPTERED FIC IT WAS SPECIFICALLY MEANT TO BE A ONE-SHOT CAUSE I DON'T ACTUALLY THINK WHAT PETER DID IN CHAPTER ONE IS A GOOD IDEA I JUST WANTED HIM TO BE LIKE 'YO LISTEN UP HERE'S A THING' AND FOR PEOPLE TO LISTEN BECAUSE SMOL BEAN IS ALWAYS BEING IGNORED BUT THEN YOU ASKED FOR MORE AND I COULDN'T HELP IT!!!
> 
> Urgh, well, here we go then guys. There is the faintest idea of a plan in my head, not sure at all if it'll work out, or if/when there'll be more, but I tried because you asked. If you want my opinion you should still just read the first chapter and leave it at that but if you want to see where this plot-hole filled road leads then read on!

“It all starts on April 27th, 2018. It ends then too.”

Mr Stark’s face is grave, though to a much lesser extent than it had been while watching Peter disintegrate; the last sight Peter remembers before waking up here.

Just behind him, Ms Potts and Happy are trailing along. They look concerned but he can tell with just a split-second’s glance, that they don’t get it, they’re more worried about him. Mr Stark gets it though, at least as much as he can without having experienced it all first-hand like Peter did.

His hand, still in the Iron Spider suit, clenches into Mr Stark’s blazer, subconsciously needing to keep a hold on his mentor as he continues, “At about 10.30am, a spaceship will appear in downtown, New York. There’ll be two-”

That’s as far as he gets before a portal snaps open on the floor below the two of them. They free-fall for all of two seconds, and Peter would have probably screamed in shock if he hadn’t been swinging back and forth through the same portals not even an hour before. Mr Stark isn’t as prepared, and he yelps as the ground suddenly disappears from beneath their feet, then again when Peter’s hand reflexively clenches and tugs their bodies closer, a pair of thin but powerful arms take his weight, holding him from the ground as Peter’s legs bend into the stone floor they hit.

 

“A bit of warning would’ve been nice,” Peter grumbles under his breath and the cold fear that’s wrapped itself around Tony’s heart and lungs eases a bit; the kid is still joking, whatever he saw, whatever he lived through, it hasn’t completely ruined him.

“I only give warnings to people who don’t call me out on live TV,” a voice replies from their right and Tony pushes back from Peter in an instant, pushing Peter behind him in the next.

“Who are you?” he demands, taking in the… interesting choice of outfit. Because, seriously? A cloak?

“I’d ask you the same, but unfortunately it’s hard to avoid knowing about Tony Stark these days,” the newcomer retorts, the words derisive enough to make Tony’s hackles rise. “Who’s the kid?”

“I thought you watched the interview?”

“I skipped over the unimportant stuff, I’m only interested in why this kid knows who I am, and why he thinks he’s worth my time.”

Tony wants to snarl back, he’s got a great line about wearing a comfort blanket all ready, but there’s a small hand on his shoulder, pushing him aside just enough for Peter to slide passed.

“Can we all calm down a little? Let’s not pull each other’s pigtails when we’ll all be working together on this. Mr Stark, this is Dr Strange. Dr Strange this is Mr Stark, and I’m Spider-Man, or I guess you should call me Peter, Peter Parker. I… ugh, never actually got your real name…”

For some reason, Dr Strange looks more aggravated than reasonable at the confession, something Peter vaguely remembers as similar to his reaction when he’d introduced himself on the ship too.

“I’m sorry,” Dr Strange says, and it’s completely insincere, “But can we go back to the part where you said we’d be working together?”

Tony bristles, “Well I’m not that thrilled to be working with you either, oh great dungeon master.”

“Is this a thing with you guys, seriously?” Peter asks, placing a hand on Tony’s chest to hold him in place. “Aren’t you supposed to be adults? Or is this some sort of twisted flirting that only happens between people who have egos the size of New York?”

Tony stares, mouth slightly agape, at the teenager who earlier that day had been tripping over his words with eyes full of awe whenever he looked at Tony, who is now a tiny bean full of sass and raised eyebrows. “When did you-”

Peter shushes him. Shushes! Him, Tony! And then, with a gentle push to his chest, primly informs him, “You’re in time out, both of you, it’s the kid’s turn to talk now and you’re going to listen because we _don’t have time for this_.”

It’s instinct, the way Tony’s mouth opens with another snarky one-liner on the tip of his tongue, but then Peter meets his eyes and any humour he’s managed to find while talking to Tony is gone, and back again is the desperate, haunted expression he’d gone into the press conference with.

“Ok kid,” he sighs, placing one of his own hands over the one on his chest, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting go.

“I’m touched, truly,” Dr Strange interrupts, “But I’m still not clear on why exactly I should be listening to either of you.”

“Because,” Peter says, straightening up again, shoulders pulling back and chin raised with determination, “Thanos, the strongest being in the universe, is going to come to Earth in less than a year and then he’s going to wipe out half of the universe. You need to listen to us because I’m the only one who knows what’s going to happen. Mr Stark is a genius, someone Thanos himself recognised and someone that _you_ gave up the Time Stone to save, so obviously you had a good reason to trust in him too, or at least you will.”

Tony wants to be smug about the way the other man blanches, his expression shaken for a second before becoming disbelieving.

“Well, that all sounded frankly terrifying until you reached the part where you said I _give up the Time Stone_. Hilarious, really, and why would I do that?”

“Believe me, I wish I knew,” Peter says softly, “You promised us that you would let us die long before you gave up the stone. Then, on Titan, you used it to look at like 140 billion futures or something, and when Thanos defeated us you handed it over, willingly. Just before we both died, you said it was the ‘only way’, whatever that’s meant to mean. Then I woke up here again, no doubt because of something you did, but I don’t even know what, or when you did it! And again, it would’ve been nice to have some warning, and maybe a few suggestions on what to do…”

Peter stares stubborn back when the older man silently considers him, his cloak suddenly shifting around him but Tony barely notices the apparently sentient fashion faux-pas, too caught on the part where Peter said ‘we both died’.

“Fine. I won’t say I believe you, but I guess there’s no harm in hearing you out. Convince me you’re telling the truth.”

Are they seriously still talking when Peter just straight up said he died?

Peter chuckles, shrugging his shoulders slightly, “I literally met you like five hours ago, but I’ll do my best. Perhaps we could, maybe, go back to the compound, it’d be good to have the tech to help with the explanations, if that’s ok, Mr Stark?”

He’s startled by the sudden address, brain catching back up with the conversation in a millisecond and engaging his tongue even when his heart is still cracking at the thought of Peter dying. “Whatever you need, kid, I’ll get it for you. You’re taking point on this, so I’ll back you up however I can.”

Peter flushes, looking to his suit-clad feet, abashedly, and it’s strange watching him flip-flop between the kid Tony’s used to and the devastatingly focused kid from less than a year in the future. One that apparently died fighting to save the universe less than an hour ago in his mind.

Just focus on the here and now, Peter will explain everything soon enough, and until then he just needs to stay focused.

“Guess I can’t be a stowaway when I haven’t even snuck onto the spaceship yet…” he mumbles, and that’s the least of his concerns but Tony wants to ask anyway. He forces himself not to, because they need to stop getting side-tracked. “Alright Doctor Strange, if you could…” Peter gestures with a hand, wiping it in a circle through the air with a swooshing noise before looking hopefully at the cape-wearing wizard-wannabe.

Said wannabe sighs, takes a moment to massage his brow, before gesturing in the same way Peter had only when he does it sparks fly through the air and another freaking portal appears, this one vertical, and leading straight into the open atrium of the Avengers facility.

Huh, maybe he’s not just a wannabe.

Tony’s dubious, but Peter strides through it without a moment’s hesitation so Tony trusts in the kid’s sensibilities this once and follows, Doctor Strange bringing up the rear.

Pepper is there in a flash, “Tony what happened? You disappeared through a hole in-” she stops short when Strange steps through, closing the portal with another wave of his hands, “Who’s this?”

The ‘wizard’, and he’s still dubious of the term, no matter what magic portals he can conjure, steps forward with an outstretched hand and pleasant expression, “Doctor Steven Strange, pleased to make your acquaintance, Ms Potts.” Yeah, Tony doesn’t trust that vapid smile and his phony manners.

“Is it ok if we use one of the meeting rooms, Ms Potts?” Peter asks, thankfully distracting Pepper from the barely-welcome guest.

“This is my building, you know?” Tony grouches but everyone ignores him.

“Of course, Peter, are you ok? Is there anything I can do for you?” Pepper asks, and he isn’t sure if she even notices that she reaches out to brush his hair back from his face.

“I’m f- …I’m probably not fine,” Peter admits, with a rueful smile, “But maybe I will be… Are you going to come too?”

Pepper shakes her head, “I’ve got a bit too much work dealing with PR just now, I’ll try to drop by if I can but if not, Tony will keep me updated.”

“I would say I’m sorry but I’m really not.”

She ruffles his hair again, fondly, “I’m glad you haven’t picked up Tony’s habit of lying to me, try to avoid it if you can, ok Peter? Now go take care of whatever apocalyptic problem has popped up now,” she tells him with a warm smile.

She waits until Peter’s back is turned to level Tony with a worried stare.

He nods solemnly back, he’ll take good care of the kid, no matter what.

 

It’s only the three of them in the meeting room, a table that would fit twenty or more, fitted with holographic displays that Peter plans to make good use of. Hopefully soon more seats will be filled, but for now Mr Stark sits on one side, Doctor Strange opposite him, and Peter stands at the head of the table, already pulling information up on the screen at the front of the room. Information, graphics and media files from Loki’s attack on New York, Thor’s encounter with the Dark Elves and the aether, and finally the creation of Ultron and Vision.

Space. Reality. Mind.

Three of the four stones to have been used on Earth in recent times. He sections the information on each under the name of the stone, then marks out space for the three other stones too.

That done, he reluctantly turns back to the two watching men.

“Ok, maybe I should just go through exactly what happened to me, and then we can brainstorm about the stones together after?”

Mr Stark nods, though his eyes are flickering through the information on the screen behind Peter, no doubt trying to pull it all together even with only half of the picture.

Doctor Strange leans back, “Convince me.”

Peter takes a breath.

“Alright, so like I said to Mr Stark before, It all starts on April 27th, 2018 when a spaceship appears in New York and two aliens appear on orders from-”

That’s as far as he gets. Something beeps, loudly, and it takes him a second to realise it’s his phone. It’s habit to pull it out to check it, and not even five hours in space and death can reverse that.

“Sorry, I’ll just put it on si-”

The words die on his tongue when he glances at the screen.

It’s May.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote like all of this chapter then realised that Tony doesn't know exactly what happened to Peter after the first chapter, he doesn't know that Peter died and I had to go back and add a few parts in real quick so sorry if they read a bit strange.  
> Also my POVs are way out of whack so yeah... just ignore that!  
> I'm still writing this mainly to get things off my chest and not as a huge serious thing so if there are plot-holes feel free to point them out but I'll probably just gloss over them...  
> That said I watched the movie again today and then came home and made some notes so I think I've got things a bit straighter in my head.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Please talk to me in the comments and tell me that chapter two is trash and I can stop writing!!


	3. Breathe, then Breakdown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was out for like 15 hours today (at USJ with a friend) but I started writing this while queuing and then decided to finish it when I got home even though I have an awful day of work tomorrow and yeah... so tired.
> 
> This is the chapter to remind everyone that you can be a strong person and still need a lot of support! Take care of yourself and ask for help whenever you need it!  
> Warning for this chapter about panic attacks though!
> 
> Anyway, as I said this was written in bits and pieces during the day and then finished (the second half) done while I'm insanely tired so it might not be up to scratch, sorry!! Let me know if you spot any mistakes!! ^^;  
> A lot more was meant to happen but I'm actually rather fine with chapters just being 2k each if it means I keep my motivation so sorry if you're not a fan of short chapters...  
> Finally this chapter is dedicated to my friend who got their leg stuck between the train and the platform today and gave me a good laugh. Thanks for that!

The phone rings in his hand. It feels like whatever’s left of his mind shatters with the sudden knowledge that he hadn’t even thought of May since he sprinted out the door for school that morning, half a year from now. She’d have been at work, possibly not even aware he’d left Earth completely to die thousands of miles from Queens on a desolate planet that his dust now floats around. Or it did, at least.

Had she been ok? Had Thanos killed her in the end or had she been spared? For a second, he wonders, but his throat constricts at the very thought.

Distantly, he feels a hand on his shoulder, a second later another appears in his vision, closing around the hand holding the ringing phone in a death grip, squeezing gently. “Peter? Are you ok?” Tony’s voice filters in through the haze of white noise that fills his ears and he glances up at him, dazedly. “It’s your aunt, do you want to answer it?” He vocalizes something, a hoarse groan that doesn’t manage to answer the question. “Do you want me to answer it?” Tony asks instead.

He doesn’t. He wants to hear aunt May’s voice, to know she’s alive and whole and let her soothe away the fear that saturates his blood and touches each and every piece of him. But something keeps him from swiping a finger to accept the call, a terrifying fear that it’s all too good to be true, that this really is all a hallucination brought on at the brink of death that will dissolve like his body if he puts too much faith in this reality by letting himself accept the warm comfort of his aunt...

He stares at Mr Stark hopelessly, long enough that the ringing stops and his whole body turns to ice with the realization that he’d missed his chance to actually speak to May -

It rings again and her name flashes onto the screen, attached to a goofy picture he’d taken of her over Thai food only a few weeks before. Peter takes a breath, leans slightly into Tony’s reassuring embrace and accepts the call.

“Peter Benjamin Parker what do you think- I can’t even- I don’t even know- how could- how could you keep this from me?”  
The figurative light bulb in Peter’s head flickers on, then blows its fuse completely. That’s his aunt, that’s her voice through the phone... and she’s sooo angry.

“May, I-“ he chokes.

“No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no. You listen to me now young man! All this time? Months! Months sneaking out of the house and you have the NERVE to lie to my face, to tell me it’s all for the Stark fucking internship!? When really you’ve been running around fighting crime in a suit so thin it’s basically a red and blue condom!”

Oh shit. He hadn’t even thought, hadn’t even considered the timing beyond how long it gave him until Thanos appeared. And now he’s revealed his identity in a life broadcast before he’d even told May, or before she’d found out herself in his original timeline.  
She sounds on the verge of tears, but May doesn’t cry when she’s angry. She’s angry when angry, tears come after. He and Ned had made comparisons to the hulk in the past, after surviving one of her incensed lectures.  
Peter cries though, the tears that built in his eyes before beginning to stream down his cheeks cause it’s really her; alive, healthy and completely beyond furious. Worried. For him.

“What would have happened if you got hurt?! If you’d been injured somewhere far away and I didn’t know?! If you’d- if you’d DIED and I wouldn’t have even known!!”  
She screams the last part and Peter knows it’s his chance, because she’ll need a break before the next wave of anger hits.

“Aunt May,” he says in the brief reprieve, and it’s impossible to prevent the words catching on his throat. “Aunt May, I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry,” he whispers into the phone and she might be mad, she might be well past any stage of anger she’s ever reached before but she also knows him better than anyone else in the world and has raised him through so many losses and protected him from anything the world had thrown at him until now, and she can just tell that somethings wrong.

“Sweetheart, where are you? What’s going on? That news... you were on it and you said... what’s happening?!”

He wants to explain, to tell her exactly what she means to him and how much he appreciates it because everything suddenly feels much more fragile - both his life and the whole planet; he wants to tell her but there’s no more air to breathe and only a wheeze passes his lips. He tries again, looking up at Tony desperately when the air just gets thinner, slipping past his lips in short, quick gasps that barely graze the oxygen requirements of his body.

Tony’s lips are moving but there aren’t any words, everything is starting to phase out again. His body curls in on itself, collapsing over the table that his phone is now laying on. He can’t remember releasing it from his grasp but May’s photo is just inches from his face.

A body presses against his back, pressing against it from shoulder to hip with one hand wrapping around his chest with enough force to hold him securely in place but not enough to be restrictive. The other hand reaches past his head to press the screen of the phone.  
Peter wails, desperately needing the call to continue, for the light illuminating her smiling face to remain. The fingers pull back and the phone’s still there, the call still active and he sags against the cold metal table in relief.

Something warm brushes his ear, “Feel me breathing Peter, you need to breath. Copy me. You can do it. May, talk to him!”

“Peter, sweetie, listen to Mr Stark, he’s going to breathe with you so copy him. Everything’s ok now Pete so just relax and take slow, deep breaths, that’s it...”

It takes a while, he’s not exactly unfamiliar with panic attacks but he hasn’t had one that bad before and coming down from it is exhausting, but he makes it; with May’s soothing croons in one ear and Mr Stark’s forcefully deep breaths in the other as well as his chest moving against Peter’s back he manages to pull the scattered pieces of his psyche back together.

It’s a bit embarrassing, pushing back slightly to get Me Stark to release his clam-like embrace. The position would most likely have been taken drastically out of context, especially combined with his flushed cheeks and mussed hair, if anyone else were to see, but an anxious glance around the room shows Dr Strange has made himself scarce and the door is still closed tight as they’d left it when they entered.

For a moment no-one speaks. May is clearly waiting for some sign of what’s happening, and Peter is a petrified mix of embarrassment and residual panic, so instead it falls to Mr Stark, who cups a hand around his face, turning it to his to meet his eyes. “You ok kid?”

He goes to say yes but remembers Ms Potts’ gentle cajoling for him not to lie like Mr Stark does. Then he goes to say no but remembers Aunt May desperately listening on the line without being able to see anything that’s happening to reassure her.

Instead he looks at Mr Stark, then to the still lit phone and says, “Could you come here, Aunt May. I promise I’ll tell you everything, I just need to...” his voice cracks. See you, hear you, feel you, hold you... he needs everything. “I need you here right now.”

“FRIDAY, ask Happy to collect Mrs Parker and bring her here as fast as possible, no, faster,” Tony orders before May can respond but she agrees in an instant.

“Have him come to the apartment, I need to pick some things up on my way. You take care of my boy until I get there, you hear, Stark?”

“Perfectly, Mrs Parker. I won’t let him out of my sight.”

She hums, clearly unimpressed and lacking confidence in his assurances, but doesn’t comment. “Pete, I’ll be there soon, ok? We can… we’ll talk soon. I’m not going to lie and tell you I’m not mad because I am, but that doesn’t change anything, alright? I larb you, remember? Nothing changes that, I promise.”

Fresh tears drip down his face and he sniffles an agreement, “I know Aunt May, and I’m so glad you’re ok.”

There’s a moment’s silence after he finishes, she’s clearly baffled by him turning the focus onto her, but she doesn’t ask. “I need to hang up now sweetie, but I’ll be there before you know it. Phone me and I’ll answer straight away ok if you need me before then, I’m here for you. You know that, right? Whenever you need me, I’m here.”

Through a force of will and the overwhelming parental love of his aunt, Peter manages a smile, “I know, May. See you soon.”

He listens to her response, then the muffled sounds of the phone being moved and finally the click as it disconnects. He didn’t think he had the power to do it himself, instead just watching as the screen flashes once, returns to his home screen and then goes black a few seconds later.

He’s startled from his reverie when an arm wraps around his shoulder. Mr Stark had been pressed against his back but sometime following Peter’s cosmic-sized breakdown he’d shifted to the side, pressing hip to shoulder against him.  
“Let’s get you upstairs kid, the room beside Vision still has your name on it and I promise you, the bed is far superior to these old conference chairs. I think we could both do with a bit of a break just now, get our heads back on straight cause I know just how shitty attacks like that can be…”

He’s leading him through the door before Peter even manages to string together an objection, “No, Mr Stark, we don’t have time for that, there’s so much I have to tell you all and Thanos is already preparing to gather the stones!” he pleads desperately as they move towards the elevator that leads to the living areas.

“Kid, you said Thanos arrives at the end of April, that’s more than six months away. You have time to rest, and you have time to recover because I don’t know exactly what happened, but it wasn’t nothing. Besides, Doctor Peculiar’s already vanished through another portal, and no-one else is here except me, even Rhodey’s off site just now, so I think both of us should take the chance to rest so we’re ready when the others do arrive.”

The elevator opens at the correct floor and he’s being hustled down a carpeted hallway and through an automatic door before he can respond.  
“We can decorate some more later, really personalise it for you, but it’s got the most important features for now,” Mr Stark babbles, the way he does when he’s stressed but trying not to show it. Somehow, he manoeuvres Peter onto the bed, then into a lying position before Peter can string together an objection.

A blanket is draped over him, and Peter wonders if he’s in some alternate dimension where Mr Stark has bizarrely strong parental tendencies when he bends over, hands threatening to tuck him in before suddenly pulling back uncertainly.

“I, uh, I’ll be in the lab. Just tell FRIDAY if you need anything, ok?”

Peter nods, but the moment Mr Stark turns to leave he’s jolting up again, a hand reaching out to the older man without conscious thought. He drops it back to the covers, as if burned by the very action of reaching but Mr Stark has clearly seen it, so there’s no point in pretending it didn’t happen. The words catch in Peter’s throat again but Mr Stark is ready to fill them in. “Do you, uh, want me to stay?”

Peter should shake his head, Mr Stark sounds frankly horrified at the thought, and Peter himself is mortified at appearing so childish and reliant when all he’d ever wanted was to prove himself to the man who’d taken him under his wing.

Instead he nods, “Is that… ok?”

Mr Stark shrugs his blazer off in answer, then his shoes, leaving him in only an old band shirt and his dress slacks as he creeps around to the other side of the unreasonably large bed and slides on, staying on top of the covers and quickly propping a few pillows against the headboard to lean against it.

He’d like to pretend it was a reluctant, unwilling action, but the moment Mr Stark seems comfortable, Peter’s shifting into his space, resting his head against a thigh and slipping a hand from under the blanket to grasp at Mr Stark’s well-worn shirt.

Neither of them get any rest.

 

 

“I didn’t want to die, Mr Stark,” Peter whispers into the silence.  
There’s no response, no witty comeback or cheesy greetings card phrase that can be used in answer.  
There’s a hand that strokes gently through his hair though, and that’s all the answer Peter needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think in the comments, they make me cry with joy!


	4. Breathe, then Communicate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> May.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the feedback so far, it's been incredible and makes me so happy!!
> 
> I'll be away for the next five days with minimal internet, so I'm sorry if nothing new gets posted in that time! Hopefully I'll get some writing done though...
> 
> I hope this doesn't feel too rushed, or too pointless... I know where I'm going but before I get there characters keep on demanding to have serious discussions and they all get angsty about it x_x
> 
> Sorry about that but hope you enjoy the chapter anyway!

Night has fallen and stars are twinkling threateningly in the sky by the time May arrives courtesy of the Happy Taxi. Lying in bed beside Mr Stark, who’s working on a Starkpad with one hand and still running the other through Peter’s hair, he stares up through the glass ceiling into the universe and laments the loss of his blissful wonder regarding the vast emptiness that surrounds the Earth. It’s not entirely surprising, having been flown through the cosmos to fight, lose, and die on an alien planet; having seen and fought some of the enemies that lie out there.

May bursts in like a typhoon though, whirling through the complex to Peter’s room without regard for anyone or anything that is blown away by her force. She pauses in the doorway for a second, the wind disappearing from her sails, and then she’s collapsing forwards into the room, slamming into Peter who meets her halfway in a desperate hug.

Mr Stark tries to sneak past the tangled mess of limbs and assurances but Peter’s senses are too in tune with the motions of people around him and he catches him by the elbow and pulls him into the hug too. May, to her credit, simply raises an arm to accept him into the close embrace when it’s clear Peter wants him there too. He struggles, then shifts uncomfortably, then seems to resign himself to the prolonged physical contact until May lets him go and shuffles Peter back to the bed, kneeling in front of him to stare straight into his slightly red eyes.

“Peter, sweetheart, I need you to be real with me now, to really tell me what’s going on, can you do that?” she asks in the softest voice Tony’s ever heard.

Peter nods, then lets his head stay where it falls, “Sure May, I’m sorry.”

“Hey, chin up Pete,” May chides, flicking his face back up to meet her eyes. “We’re all adults here,” she says, and it’s a promise to treat him seriously and take his opinions into account more than anything else. “Or at least, the two of us are, not sure about that money-for-brains old man over there,” she teases and Tony objects loudly, but only for show when he sees Peter’s smile. “That’s more like it. Ok, let’s start simple, Peter – are you spider-man?”

Peter huffs a laugh that sounds exceptionally gruff coming out of his raw throat, “That’s the easy question, is it?”

“Well you did reveal yourself on live tv, so unless all that was some sort of joke, or you’re being forced to cover for someone…”

She trails off, leaving it hanging with a bizarre mix of both hope and anger in her voice at the thought of him being coerced into confession to a life of crime-fighting, but Peter shakes his head, “I’m sorry May, I am Spider-man, I swear it’s not as dangerous as you think though! Mostly I’ve just been helping old ladies and climbing trees to fetch lost cats… not exactly the most dangerous, high-profile new stories…”

“Oh, and what happened at Mr Delmar’s wasn’t dangerous then? And that fight that was on the news just last week when that plane crashed! That _Stark_ plane!” she exclaims, giving Tony a dirty look over her shoulder, where he lingers by the wall. He holds his hands up in a gesture of submission, thankful when she turns back to Peter. “Don’t tell me they were nothing.”

“Those were… yeah, they were bad,” Peter admits, “I got in a bit… a bit over my head, but Mr Stark’s going to be backing me up from now on whenever I need it,” he promises and that wasn’t exactly what Tony had meant earlier in the day but if it earns him brownie points with the angry-attractive-aunt then he’ll take it.

“What about now then? What’s going on? You’d kept this all secret for months, and then you’re on the five o’clock news talking about the end of the world? No time to give your old aunt a phone just to give her a heads up?” She’s starting to get fired up again, even though she doesn’t want to. She’s not here to get mad at Peter, not after what had happened on the phone earlier, or at least not until she’s heard his reasons.

“I’m sorry, May. I didn’t mean to, I should have said something first but… I just didn’t think, I forgot you didn’t know until-”

“You _forgot?_ ” she shrieks, and screw it, she’s angry but that’s not what she expected him to use as an excuse. “You forgot you’d snuck around behind my back for months when you decided to tell the whole world that you’re a fifteen year old high school student who runs around fighting crime in pyjamas? How could that not cross your mind? Am I just-”

“May!”

A hand on her shoulder pushes her back, sending her gently rolling from her crouch onto her backside on the floor and good god does she want to lay into Tony fucking Stark too, but when she looks up he’s wrapping an arm around Peter’s shoulders and pulling his hunched form into his side and the burning anger drains away in an instant, leaving her feeling cold and empty inside instead. Is that really how Peter had thought of her? It takes an instant, and the memories of his frantic cries down the phone earlier to tell her the obvious answer.

She sits up again slowly, cautiously reaching a hand out to rest on his knee.

“Ok, I’m taking deep breaths, I said I’d let you explain so I’m sorry for snapping. Just please, tell me what’s going on Peter. The stuff you said in the news, what happened on the phone… Peter, you haven’t had an attack like that since your… since Ben died… Please talk to me, I’m so scared I don’t even know what to do anymore.”

She expects Peter to collapse back into her arms, he’s always been a sympathetic crier, and there’s no stopping the tears streaming down her cheeks now she’s lost the last strand of control holding her emotions in check. Instead he straightens, pulling shoulders back and raising his head from where it’d been half hidden in Stark’s neck. His cheeks are blotchy and his eyes red rimmed but his lips are pressed into a determined line, his jaw set.

“I’m not… exactly who you think I am,” he starts and she has no idea what he means by that but it terrifies her so much. He can clearly see it in her expression because he blusters, waving a hand frantically between them to waft away whatever incorrect conclusion she’d reached. “I’m still Peter, just from the… future, as crazy as that sounds. In about six months, an alien called Thanos is going to send his minions to Earth in his quest to collect a set of items of indescribable power known as the Infinity Stones, in order to bring balance to the force, or something like that. He’d make a pretty shit Jedi though,” he mutters under his breath and May is just relieved enough to see a small quirk of his lips that she doesn’t even bother scolding him for his language. The smirk vanishes in an instant though as he continues, “He finds them all, or I can only assume he does since I watched four of the seven people on Titan disintegrate before I did too. It… wasn’t pleasant.”

Peter pauses, and May marvels over just how cold it’s become in the room when a chill spreads over her skin, setting all the fine hairs along it on end. A hand falls on her arm, the one still reaching out to touch Peter’s knee, and it’s so warm that she realises the cold originates from her core, not the room. It almost feels like her soul has been removed and all that’s left is an empty husk, devoid of life.

She’s about to lunge into him and pull him into the tightest hug she can manage and never let go when Stark decides to speak up for the first time in a while; “Could you, maybe, expand on how he… disintegrated five people?” He’s clearly trying to put on his usual, carefree persona, words coated with sarcasm and humour, but the word ‘disintegrate’ still catches in his throat and throws off the tone of the rest of the sentence.

“Apparently he just clicked his fingers, that’s what everyone said at least, but I don’t exactly have evidence.”

“Just a click?” Tony asks incredulously, absentmindedly snapping his own fingers. Even without having witnessed the click that ended his and billions of other lives, the sound makes Peter jump and his heart skips a beat then picks up speed as if to make up for the missed thump. Tony doesn’t comment on it, but his eyes become slightly darker and the hand in question quickly drops back down to the bed. “Was there some sort of energy released? Any visible light or physical blast that hit you before you started to…”

“I didn’t see anything, there wasn’t any sign of what happened until we all started to die. I don’t think you really understand , Mr Stark – Thanos wasn’t on Titan with us, he was on Earth. And when he clicked his fingers, he didn’t just kill me, Doctor Strange and the Guardians, he killed half of the whole universe, fifty percent of everything living just gone; that’s his idea of ‘bringing balance’.”

 

It’s funny, how someone can say something over and over, tell you the blatant truth to your face, and yet you just assume that they’re being metaphorical, that it’s an exaggeration to try to convey the seriousness of the situation. Unwittingly, by assuming so, Tony had drastically underestimated the situation instead. He wishes he still could because all the plans he’d considered until now fall far short now he knows the consequences if they fail. He very nearly asks whether there’s any hope at all, but that’s really not fair when all the preparation and planning is going to be on Peter for this one. Apparently, the thought shows on his face, on May’s too, cause Peter scowls, “It’s possible, it doesn’t seem like it but it is. We almost beat him last time, we just need to take him out before he gets the Infinity Stones and becomes invincible. That’s going to be our target and with planning, I think we can make it. Last time, we were on the back foot almost the whole time; it was only a few hours from start to finish and we were chasing his tail most of the time. I know some of the things he’ll do, some of the places he’ll go at that time so if we start planning and training now we can be ready for him when he shows his ugly face. I really need you to trust me on this Mr Stark, if even you don’t think we can do it…”

He trails off fearfully but his eyes are set with a burning fire that spreads, setting Tony’s coals burning too. “You have 100% of my trust, Peter, and that’s more than I trust myself. Even if it’s just you and me-”

“And me,” May insists resolutely.

“And May, that’s more than enough to kick this alien overlord-wannabe to dust and break all his fingers so he’ll never even think about snapping them again! Not in that order, of course.”

Peter smiles, the brightest and biggest he’s seen all day, even including when he showed Peter the new suit before all this time-travel nonsense occurred. He smiles and jumps to his feet, “Alright let’s get started then!”

“How about ‘no’?” Tony quickly interrupts, pushing him back down by his shoulders, “What you need is a good meal and then a long rest, no arguments or I’ll have Happy come babysit you to make sure you behave. I’d hope we’ll have a few friendly faces arriving tomorrow so you’re going to take it easy tonight, relax, play some games and then sleep for a long time to start recovering from everything you went through. And then, when you wake up in the morning, after a good, healthy breakfast suitable for a growing spiderkid, you can start explaining exactly what happened to me and whoever else is-”

An old ringtone, giving him flashbacks to the early noughties, interrupts just before he finishes his disgustingly parental diatribe. He looks to May, because he’s heard Peter’s ringtone, it’s sickeningly nerdy, and he also knows he’d left his phone in the meeting room after his breakdown because FRIDAY has informed him earlier that it had been inundated with calls and messages since an hour before.

“It’s not mine,” she says, looking expectantly back at him.

Tony raises an eyebrow, “Do you really think I’d-”

“Mr Stark, I think it’s coming from your blazer,” Peter points out, just as Tony pulls his own Starkphone from the back pocket of his slacks.

He goes still. His phone is in his hand.

But that’s not the only phone he carries with him, it hasn’t been for months but it’s easy to forget because the second phone never makes a sound, requiring nothing more than the occasional charge once a week.

The temptation to ignore it, to let it ring out is huge, but he rushes over to grab it anyway before it stops ringing.

If Peter can die and come back in time to try and fix things, Tony can get over himself and his problems enough to take a call from someone he’s very much going to need help from very soon.

He pauses to check the tiny grey and black screen, in the miniscule hope that someone else had somehow found the number of this phone. No luck.

_Call from Steve Rogers._

“I need to take this.”


	5. Breathe, then Release

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serious discussions, and comfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still overwhelmed, your comments give me life!!!  
> I know I said I wouldn't post today but I had a four hour train ride to Tokyo so I got a lot of writing done so here you go!  
> Really probably now though, no update again until Monday, I need to work on my novel before my friend kills me...
> 
> Enjoy this chapter!! (with the briefest of proof-reads so let me know if there are any errors!)

“Tony, it’s Steve…”

There’s a long, heavy pause, the weight of what happened months before hanging between them and leaving only the unfortunate echoes of each other’s breath in the receiver. There’s so much Tony wants to say, so many questions he has on the tip of his tongue that boil down to just one: why.

He wants to leave the rift as it is, to let Steve hang in the silence until he finds the words to break it, perhaps an apology, hopefully no more excuses.

‘ _Put it behind you and get over yourself.’_

_‘He killed half of the whole universe.’_

It’s not gonna be easy, but for this, Tony thinks he can get over himself. For half of the universe.

(For Peter.)

“How’s my favourite wanted fugitive? Been a while, huh,” he says, the light-humour of his words tainted by the forcefulness with which he expels them.

He can be nice, it’s just going to be a struggle.

“Fine, Tony. Can you give us the rundown of what’s going on? We saw the news but… Peter, was it? The kid didn’t really give us much to go on.”

“Think we’re going to need the whole fam for this one, Cap, and any distant relatives that would like to creep out of the old woodwork. Get the band back together, comeback tour and all that.”

“You’re going to have to give us more than that. What exactly is the threat? How does your kid know about it when nobody else does? I thought he was working for the little guy just now, friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man, wasn’t it?”

The turn of phrase gives Tony pause, clearly Steve still has eyes and ears keeping him in the loop; the thought sends a rush of anger through him, Steve had made his choice – to leave Tony and the team behind, even if he did take most of them with him – so he shouldn’t still be privy to the goings-on around the compound, especially conversations that had been private, supposedly. His skin itches with the need to hunt down the source of the leak, or to lash out at Steve for resorting to spying, but he doesn’t.

He bites his lip and takes a deep breath.

_‘Put it behind you.’_

“He was, or is just now, for the most part anyway. Ok, just listen, I know what I’m about to say is going to sound real crazy and you’re going to think I’ve finally lost it, but trust me on this, ok?” He barely lets Steve get in a concerned ‘Tony’ before soldiering on, “The kid is from about six months from now, or at least his consciousness is, he was sent back in time by an actual wizard called Doctor Strange who used an object called the Time Stone. It’s an Infinity stone, like our old friend the Tesseract, but where that dealt with space manipulation, the time stone deals in… time, obviously.  He’s here to fix things, with some help obviously.”

“And what, exactly, needs fixing that required a wizard to send a teenaged kid back in time?” Steve interrupts and he already sounds sceptical, asking the question just to humour Tony.

“Well, Steve, there’s this one guy called Thanos and he might just come along and kill half of all sentient life in the universe in an instant. Is that a big enough problem for you?”

There’s a quiet crack, the plastic casing of the phone breaking slightly under Tony’s grip.

“Tony,” Steve finally says, and he’s completely serious now, “Do you have any _proof_?”

“Oh, sorry, let me just whip out my time machine and we’ll just take a quick trip to the future to check how many people are left, shall we Marty? No, I can’t give you proof of something that will happen in six months Steve!”

“Tony, calm down. I’m just saying it’s going to be a hard sell without anything to point to and say ‘look, that’s your proof right there.’”

“Well figure out how to sell it!” he finally shouts into the receiver. There’s silence, his own harsh breaths filling his ears, and it lasts just long enough for him to assume that Steven’s hung up rather than deal with his temper.

“He’s a teenager, Tony, a kid who’s absolutely desperate for your affection. It’s not unrealistic to think he might just be… striving for your attention.”

When he manages to focus enough past his consuming rage at the mere suggestion Peter was being duplicitous to gain more of Tony’s time, his voice is sharp and cold, like a blade of ice.

“He wouldn’t.”

“I don’t think he would,” Steve agrees with him softly, “But I met him for a few minutes at most so I’m going to have to take your word on this Tony. Do you trust him?”

“You want the truth Steve?” he asks, voice soft but biting. “Right now, I think I trust him more than anyone else.”

It’s as much a revelation for Tony as it is news for Steve and they both pause for a silent moment to let that heavy truth settle between them.

“Alright then, I’m in and I’ll bring the others round one way or another. Now give me the specifics of it all.”

The serious mood that had built from the start of the call until that moment breaks, both with the relief of Steve’s agreement and the awkwardness with which he admits “Actually that’s all I know. Peter’s going to break it all down for us tomorrow, think you can make it?”

Another long pause, and Tony’s just about to fake an urgent call from Pepper when Steve finally responds, “You’re willing to trust this kid on nothing more than the suggestion that something bad is going to happen if we don’t do something to stop it? It’s been hours Tony, how can you not have more than that by now?”

“He died Steve!” he bites out past the anxiety that claws at his chest at the thought. He takes a step forward, as if he could step closer to Steve, get up his face to spit these words out but he can’t so he lets his feet carry him back and forth across the small meeting room instead. “He’s fifteen years old and he remembers turning to dust all alone on a planet fuck knows where, so I’m sorry I didn’t pump all the details out of him yet but I’ve been a bit busy dealing with the PTSD and panic attacks! He’s still in survival mode just now and I need him to relax and realise that the world won’t end just because he takes a minute to breathe!”

“Tony,” Steve near-whispers, apologetically, but he barely notices, too distracted by the second voice that responds to his outburst.

“Mr Stark?”

Tony freezes, eyes wide, staring at the small figure huddles in the doorway. Peter’s dressed in an oversized shirt, the neck hanging low enough to see the entirety of his collarbones, and the pair of Hello Kitty trousers he’d forced on the kid several days before. He looks horrifyingly fragile, even though Tony knows he’s all hard muscle and flat planes underneath.

“Peter,” he breathes, then quickly clears his throat to continue, “I thought, uh, I thought you were going to sleep?”

“I just… wanted to make sure you were ok first, you looked pretty…” he hesitates, trying to think of the right word, before finishing, lamely, “anxious.” He looks from Tony to the phone still pressed against his face in a white-knuckle grasp, “Is everything ok?”

“It’s fine kid, just having a quick chat with some of the folks, you know? Sorry for the raised voices but we’re fine, really.”

Tony’s being sincere but Peter still hovers at the entrance to the room. At first Tony thinks he’s upset about Tony telling Steve everything he’d said, but then he notices the pinched line of his cheeks and the way his dark glare is focused on the phone rather than Tony. He’s being… protective.

“Ok then,” he finally says with a nod, offering Tony a slight smile. But he doesn’t turn to leave.

“You should-” Tony starts, about to suggest he heads to bed, but Peter cuts him off before he can verbalise the thought.

“I wasn’t. Alone, that is,” he clarifies. “I wasn’t alone when I died.” He looks away from Tony, down at his hands, watching his fingers flex slowly in the air, as if to clench into something that isn’t there. “There were seven of us on the planet, Mr Stark; Mantis, Drax, other Peter and Doctor Strange disintegrated first. Then me. There was a blue alien too but I think she was fine. You were fine too. I hope so at least, cause it felt awful – suddenly none of the atoms in my body would stay in place, they all suddenly started to slip, drifting out of place and leaving nothing but air behind. It’s kinda strange really, everyone knows that 99.999% of the human body is just empty space, it’s a miracle all the atoms fit together the way they do to create us. I always felt so firm, so real but now I just feel like I could slip away again at any moment, what’s stopping that from happening again?”

Tony’s lungs won’t expand, his ribcage feels like a prison around them as he watches Peter clench his fingers over and over again, eyes transfixed on the action. Steve’s silent too, and Tony knows his extraordinary hearing is picking up every word that tumbles past Peter’s lips.

“But it’s ok, because I’m not alone now. And I wasn’t alone then either.”

He looks straight up, his gaze piercing straight through Tony’s eyes to stab into his heart.

“I was so glad, Mr Stark. If it couldn’t have been May, I’m glad it was you that held me as I died.”

Tony ends the call and rushes to gather Peter into his arms, to give him something for his fingers to cling onto before the tears blind him completely.

 

 

Peter doesn’t want to sleep, but he is willing to give it a shot once Tony and May agree to bracket him in on either side of the bed.

The three of them lie there, unspeaking, for two hours before calling it quits and heading down to the lab for some light tinkering to distract their brains from heavier thoughts.

At two in the morning, Tony looks up from the Iron Man thruster to see Peter asleep at a workbench, his face pressed into a StarkPad filled with the schematics for the Iron Spider suit.

Tony carefully flicks the off switch, then gently pulls Peter off the desk, using his shoulder to direct his head into Tony’s neck before letting out a soft huff as he scoops the teen up into his arms and carrying him over to the sofa May’s dozing on. She wakes with a start when he delicately places Peter along the length of it, head resting beside her lap so she can instantly run her fingers through his hair, soothing him back to sleep before he even starts to wake from the change in position.

“I want to be mad, Tony. I want to be _so_ mad at both of you,” she whispers without taking her eyes off Peter’s face that has finally relaxed. “But I can’t. He’s too good, cares too much and even before I found out about Spider-Man I worried he was going to give all of himself away and I’d lose him. Now… I feel like I’ve missed out on a whole new part of him growing, that the two of you hid it from me because you knew I wouldn’t approve, and you’re right, I don’t.”

Tony doesn’t offer any defence; there’s nothing to say, it was exactly as she’d described. He waits as she continues to smooth Peter’s hair back, a heartbroken smile adding a years to her face.

“But I know it’s too late for that. Pete is Spider-Man, you can’t just have one or the other. However he gained these powers, they’ve given him all he’s ever wanted, the power to help other people, even at his own expense. If that’s the life he’s going down, and it’s a bit late to back down from it now after announcing it on TV, then he needs as many people as possible there with him, even if he doesn’t realise that. One of those people has to be you, Tony, and believe me right now I’d rather that wasn’t the case. He told me what happened, not everything, I’m sure, but most of it. You were the one who was there for him when he died, if he hadn’t already seen you as a father, he would now. As it is, the attachment he has to you is not something that’s going to just fade away, I need you to promise me, to swear on whatever you hold most important, that you will protect him, no matter what.”

Tony doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t pause, doesn’t even think before saying, “I promise you I will.”

“You swear?” May presses adamantly.

“I swear to you, I’ll protect Peter.”

“What do you swear on?” she demands.

“On Peter,” he whispers, and she nods.


	6. Breathe, then Compromise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony, Peter and May make plans for what will happen now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually made notes for what would happen this chapter! There were twenty three points to get through, I got through... three of them x_x Seriously this fic just keeps on extending itself because I'm still not even at where I planned for chapter two x_x
> 
> Anyway, I had a nice time in Tokyo for Golden Week and watched IW for the third time and just wanted to write the whole time!
> 
> One thing I actually meant to mention when I posted the last chapter is that I'm actually Team Cap for CW, so I'm not at all trying to bash Cap when I write him but it was from Tony's POV so I tried to keep the way I wrote in-line with that...
> 
> Hope the new chapter is worth the few days wait, sorry if it's not that interesting...  
> Your comments give me life so eternal thank yous if you take the time to react to the chapters! I love you all!!

The next morning is Thursday and Peter wakes up as if from a dream. How could any of that crazy stuff have happened when he opens his eyes to find May smiling down at him, running fingers through his hair like she always had after he crept into her and Ben’s bed after a bad dream.

He smiles back, expression still lax with sleep, only to be startled awake when Tony’s face suddenly appears over the back of the sofa he’s been sleeping on.

“Wakey, wakey, spider-boy, we’ve got flies to catch and as much as I’d rather sleep too, lots of important things to get done today,” Tony chirps at him, the pep in his voice obviously powered by the strong scent of coffee filling the room.

There’s no sudden crash of realisation, just the slow sinking feeling that fills his gut, followed immediately by a swell of determination that lifts him from his prone position on the couch to his feet.

“Come on,” Tony says, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to lead him from the room, “I’ll tell you the schedule over breakfast.”

Peter glances back hopefully at Aunt May, who just gestures him on, following behind the pair with a reluctant smile, before turning back to Tony and opening his mouth to object.

“And if you even try to say there ‘isn’t enough time’ for breakfast, I’ll lock you in a room with the beautiful Pepper and Aunt May and let them lecture you on the importance of taking care of yourself for the next three hours, pushing the start of our meeting back even later, so it’s really in your best interests to just eat now. We have six months, if we don’t take care of ourselves now, there’ll be nobody left to fight Thanos when he arrives.”

Peter glances back at Aunt May again, this time to her eyebrow raised in a silent threat that has him gulping to himself as they enter the kitchen area to find two people already inside.

“The universe really must be ending if Tony is giving advice on taking care of yourself,” Pepper teases as they enter the room, much to Happy’s amusement.

Pepper stands, the picture of grace and composure, and strides over, stretching a hand out for May to take, “Pepper Potts, professional Tony Stark babysitter. You must be Mrs Parker, you’ve raised a great kid.”

“Just May, please, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I, uh, I hope Peter hasn’t given you too much trouble.”

“Nobody could give me as much trouble as Tony does, believe me, Peter’s no trouble at all-”

“I am standing right here, you know?”

“-though it would have been nice to have been told what was going on,” she says with a pointed look at Tony.

“I know what you mean,” May murmurs despondently and Peter feels guilt rolling through his stomach at the stress he’s created for her, something he never wanted her to go through.

“Well the good thing is both of us know what’s happening now, so there are some real adults to take care of him.”

Peter knows better than to object just now that he doesn’t _need_ taken care of, especially at the fresh memory of spending several hours in bed the previous day with May on one side and Tony on the other; he’d felt unbelievably warm and secure lying safely between the two people he trusts most to protect him from anything he isn’t able to fight.

Tony apparently also realises now isn’t a good time to argue against the verbal abuse.

“What about me?”

Happy clearly didn’t get the memo but, fortunately for him, Pepper doesn’t even deign his question with a response.

“Let’s sit down and eat, we can go through how best to take care of Peter after. I’m afraid there might have to be some changes for you too from here on out…”

May’s face draws down into a pinched expression but she doesn’t object like Peter expects as they all take a seat at the table that has a large stack of pancakes waiting in the centre.

The atmosphere is thick until they’ve all finished eating and there’s the bare minimum of conversation during the meal. Tony finally puts his knife and fork down to speak, “A few guests should be arriving just after lunch today, they’re flying in so I’ll have someone pick them up from the airport. After that it’d be good if you could explain what will happen and we can start brainstorming together from there.”

“But Mr Stark, that’s” he glances to the clock, “like three hours away! Can’t the two of us start now and the rest can catch up when they arrive?” Peter begs.

“There’re things we have to sort out before we throw ourselves into this full-throttle.”

“Like what?” Peter asks Tony defensively only for May to respond in an instant.

“Like school.”

There’s a beat of silence as Peter stares at her, as if betrayed, “I’m not going back to school, May. I can’t. _I can’t_. This is so important and I can’t waste time sitting though Mr Kingston’s lectures about the Sokovia Accords and worrying about essay deadlines when there’s a deadline on half of the universe being destroyed!”

There’s a frantic edge to his voice, the words quivering with fear as he speaks them, but he flinches away when a hand tries to land on his shoulder.

“Peter, listen to me, ok?” May demands so forcefully he finds himself looking up from where he’d hunched over without even meaning to. “Tony and I discussed this earlier. I don’t like it, but we’re going to pull you out of school, ok? You don’t have to keep going.”

The weight in his chest lightens enough for him to take some deep breaths and force his body to calm down. “Really?”

Her soft hand stretches cautiously to his shoulder, and this time he relaxes into it’s touch, letting her rub gentle circles into his skin. “Of course, Peter, I’m not going to make you sit on the side-lines while the world is in danger. I wish I could, I can’t pretend I’m happy to let you be involves with something so dangerous, but right now you really are the only person able to stop this and I know trying to stand in your way won’t do any good. However, there are conditions.”

Peter straightens up, waiting for her to continue but instead it’s Tony that speaks.

“You can stay here at the base and help, as long as you spend two days a week working with tutors to keep you up-to-date with everything you should be learning in school. If you start slacking, you’re out of the labs and the meetings. If you don’t agree at all,” he continues with a dark frown, “you’re not in any of them and we’ll just have to make do with what you’ve told us so far while trying to plan for Thanos.”

There’s no hint of a lie in his voice, and looking around the table shows the other adults, Happy included, looking equally as serious.

“Mr Stark, I… we _don’t have time_.  If we don’t-”

“Peter, look at me,” Tony demands softly and Peter finds himself obeying even when he wants to look anywhere but, “do you trust me?”

The question comes completely out of left-field, so much so that Peter has to take a moment to check he heard correctly, but once he does the answer comes instantaneously.

“Completely.”

“Thank you. I trust you too, 100%, even though you sounded frankly crazy when you told me you time travelled from the future, I don’t doubt anything you say. And even though you haven’t told me everything yet, you’ve barely even scratched the surface, there’s one important fact you did give me. Thanos destroyed the universe in one day. From the start to the end of the fight was less than twenty four hours. We had no warning, no time to plan or group up to organise our defences. We lost, I can’t imagine what you lived through up until you…” he chokes, swallowing the words he planned to say before saying instead, “up until the end, but I refuse to believe we didn’t put up a damn good fight and give him a run for his money.”

Tony pauses, waiting until Peter reluctantly nods in agreement before continuing.

“I know you’re scared, I can’t even imagine, but I want you to trust me when I say that, no matter how strong he is, Thanos doesn’t have ghost of a chance of winning when we have six months to prepare. He doesn’t have even that with you here to guide an army of superheroes against him.”

Peter finds it hard to breathe, but for the first time in the last day, since arriving back in the past, it’s because of the warmth that fills his chest. He doesn’t even bother to wipe away the tears that come to his eyes from the rousing show of trust Mr Stark just showed in him.

There are no words to offer in response, so he simply nods, agreeing to Mr Stark’s confidence and to their demands that he continue his education around preparing for battle.

Ms. Potts offers a tissue box across the table for him to dab away the wetness on his cheeks.

“There is one other thing we need you to do Peter,” Mr Stark continues when he has his tears under control.

The cautiousness of his voice sets Peter back on edge; whatever he wants him to do is something he thinks Peter will object to even more than his continued education.

“Do you remember the battle of New York six years back? Not big news or anything but I had to fly a nuke through a wormhole that led to space and almost died falling back to Earth.” He says it all nonchalantly but Pepper reaches across the table to take his hand, forcing his to relax the white-knuckled clench it had tightened into. “I… I had a lot of nightmares after that, a lot of problems that I couldn’t get passed and made it hard for me to talk to those around me. That caused a lot of problems when AIM and the Mandarin appeared. At the time, I thought of them as weaknesses, I thought I was weak for not being able to get passed what had happened, but eventually I realised that wasn’t true and that after going through something like that it was only natural for my head to be a bit messed up…”

“You want me to speak to a therapist?” Peter interrupts before Tony’s painfully personal diatribe can continue any longer.

“Well,” Tony fumbles, clearly surprised by his jump in logic, “your aunt and I talked about it and we want what’s best for you so we thought-”

“Ok,” Peter says easily, interrupting once more.

“What?”

The whole table looks taken aback by his casual acceptance.

“Mr Stark, I know how important mental health is. Do you know how many people my age have mental health issues? Like seriously, if you don’t, you’re in the fortunate minority now-a-days. It’s generational, there’s more awareness of mental health issues with kids now than ever before, and it’s not a big deal if you have problems, most people do.”

For a moment, Tony is flabbergasted, the whole table is, by the complete nonchalance with which Peter discusses the issue. “Wait a minute, are you calling me old?” he finally asks with mock offence.

“Well, if the attitude towards mental health and the stigmas surrounding it fits…” Peter trails off with a shrug.

“So you’re willing to see a therapist and talk about what happened Peter?” May finally asks through the awkward silence that makes Peter want to laugh.

He shrugs, “Sure, if you find a good one who’s trustworthy and will be sworn to complete secrecy about what I say, then I’m fine with it.”

“Well, I’ll get in touch with the doctors I saw when I had… problems and see if they’d be willing to make weekly visits to the compound,” Tony says, stumbling over the sentence as if still coming to terms with it. “Now that that’s sorted, May, you’ll be staying here for the next few months?”

Peter blinks in surprise at the sudden change of direction, then again when he digests the question, almost rhetorical in nature, directed at his aunt.

“Of course, I’m not leaving Peter to go through all this without me,” she replies without a moment’s hesitation.

“But what about work?” Peter argues only for her to turn and press a hand into his cheek.

May stares straight into his eyes, “Peter, sweetie, if you think I’m going to be anywhere other than right by your side just now then you clearly don’t value yourself enough because you are the most important thing in my life. I’ll apply for a leave of absence for now and see if I can start work again once all of this is over. If I can’t have a leave of absence… well, I’ll figure it all out, ok?”

“Or,” Tony starts before Peter can even begin to have an anxiety attack over what will happen if May stops working, “you could accept the offer I’m going to make which is made entirely out of my own self-interest: you could work for me?”

The table turns to look at the billionaire, Peter and May shocked while Happy and Pepper nod in agreement.

“Well, me slash Pepper slash Peter I guess,” he continues. “You work in the PR department for a news firm and we’re all going to need some good PR over the next few months, especially Peter with his identity revealed to the world. Having someone other than Pepper living on base to deal with and respond to the media when they cause problems would be a great help right now. The position would, of course, still be available even after this Thanos mess is dealt with, but it’d be up to you if you wanted to stay on or not.”

Both Parkers stare at him, mouths agape and eyes wide in disbelief at the blasé offer, “Tony that’s… incredibly generous, I don’t even know what to…”

“You can think about it,” he assures her quickly with an anxious look in response to her honest appreciation, “However I should point out that, if you do decide to go back to your old job, there’d have to be some… precautions taken, considering Pete’s already got a few enemies who might come back for revenge. Something similar to what Pepper has, completely discreet but thorough, I promise.”

Peter glances at May then ducks his head, horrified by the thought of his aunt being hurt or even worse, because of his role as Spider-man. What had he been thinking, revealing his identity on TV? He hadn’t been thinking, clearly, and regardless of whether that was because of the trauma of everything he’d just been through, now they’d both have to deal with the consequences.

May’s hand pinches his thigh, making him jerk upright in his seat, surprised by the unworried smile on her face.

“That’s alright, I don’t need to think about it. I’d be thrilled to be part of the PR team for the Avengers, especially for Peter. I want to help, and if I can’t help actually fight against Thanos, I’ll do what I can in other ways.”

“Great,” says Tony with a loud clap of his hands, “Pepper will write up a contract for you and you can go through it together once you’re back from Peter’s school. Now just one last thing to deal with…” He turns back to Peter again, “Peter, your phone…”

Peter’s hands reach automatically to the back pocket of his jeans, but even without reaching into it he knows it’s empty and he tries to stretch his brain back far enough to figure out where he’d left it.

Tony shakes his head and takes a slim, black box from the inside of his suit jacket, sliding it along the table to Peter.

“You left it in the conference room yesterday, but not long after we all left it started blowing up, first with messages and calls from your friends, then, somehow, the media must have found your contact information because it was ringing non-stop from then until 5am when the battery died. This one,” he gestures to the box which Peter has opened to reveal a new Starkphone, made in a custom case with the Spider-Man logo on it, “will appear as a private number and is already programmed to only accept calls from specific numbers so anyone not on that list will simply get a wrong number message.”

Peter turns it over a few times, before finally flicking on the screen only to startle when a female voice emanates from it, “Good morning Peter.”

“Karen?”

“Yes. I hope you’re well today. I took the liberty of changing your social media settings to private after you received 8,935 new friend requests on Facebook. Please let me know when you’d like to review these requests.”

“What?! No, you can just delete all of them!” he squeaks in horror.

“Are you sure?” Karen asks, “Many of them are from girls in the ideal age range for dating, I can review their accounts to find those most compatible with-”

“No!” he all but screams, cheeks burning as the adults around the table laugh openly at his embarrassment. “Really Karen, just delete them all please.”

“Very well, Peter. Goodbye Maisie Williams.”

Peter’s face blanches, “Wait, Karen, was that a joke? Please tell me that was a joke! I didn’t _really_ just reject… oh god.”

“I’m afraid you’ll never know now, Peter,” the AI intones cheerfully.

“Wow, I thought FRIDAY was harsh,” Tony whispers looking pale before shaking himself, “Anyway, that’s all for now. May, Happy will drive you back to Queens to speak with Peter’s school and take you to collect anything essential from the flat. We can organise a more official move later.” He barely waits for May’s agreement before turning to Peter, “Kid you’ve got about a few hours before our guests arrive and we get started, try to relax, things will get started soon enough and I want you to be at your best when they do.”

He stands from the table and walks around to crouch at Peter’s side, “If I were you, I’d maybe give your friend Ted a call-”

“It’s Ned.”

“-he’s been messaging nearly non-stop since last night and I think it’d be good for both of you right now. Maybe invite him up to the compound this weekend, I wouldn’t mind. Just focus right now on the people who are here to support you, ok? All of us, and your friends, we’re here for you, remember that.”

He pats Peter once on the shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze before walking out of the room with a lazy wave of the hand over his shoulder.

Peter takes a moment to acknowledge the advice as the three remaining adults start to discuss their plans for the day. He resolves to do as Mr Stark suggests; not only is it good advice but it carefully avoids the more serious issue – whatever other people and the media are saying about him.

“I’m going to go call Ned, I’ll be back before you go, ok?”

May gives him a warm but slightly nervous smile, watching him carefully all the way out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter!  
> I was going to have Peter be against therapy, but then I realised 1) I get really frustrated in fics when characters are stubborn about getting the help they need, and 2) Homecoming did an absolutely AMAZING job portraying the lives of young adults today, and an aspect they didn’t discuss much is mental health awareness but we all know so much more now about the issue than any generations before us did and we take that shit seriously so here is Peter being accepting about it cause I like to imagine he would be…
> 
> (I swear, I'll get to the actual plot soon... x_x)


	7. Breathe, Ned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, things don't go as you expect and you have to figure out where you stand now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU FOR 1000 KUDOS!!!  
> And thank you endlessly for the comments. You guys say the nicest things and it makes me so full of happiness. I had the worst allergies that left me in ridiculous pain last night so I only slept for a few hours, so today was a hard day. But getting to see how much you guys enjoyed the last chapter helped me get through it! ^_^
> 
> I'm not certain about this chapter, it doesn't have the mood I planned but that's pretty much how all of them go now. Hope you guys like it! Real plot will actually maybe progress in the next chapter?? O_O

_“My name is Peter Parker, I’m 15 years old, from Queens.”_

It must be some great aligning of the stars that sees Ned walks into Midtown Tech just as the TVs along the walls replay that line from the world-shaking interview. It freezes on Peter staring intently out of the screen before minimising to a corner to allow the school’s news anchors to speak.

Ned isn’t any less transfixed than the first time he’d seen it the previous night. Peter had cut the end of decathlon after he’d got a text, and half an hour later messaged Ned to say he was on his way upstate to meet with freaking Tony Stark about the Avengers.

Ned had all the messages memorised by now, with how many times he’d reread them to see if he’d misunderstood somehow…

_Peter: Sorry for skipping out, but I can’t do lego tonight. Mr Stark wants to talk, maybe about Avengers!!_

_Ned: You’d better not be trolling me right now, I freaking swear! Think he’s goig to invite you?_

_Peter: I think?_

_Peter: …_

_Peter: Not sure what to do tho_

_Ned: What do you mean? This is a once in a lifetime experience! It’s like winning a ticket onto the titanic!_

_Peter: the titanic sank Ned…_

_Ned: you knowhat I mean. I thought you wanted to join?_

_Peter: I did_

_Peter: I do_

_Peter: but avenging is full-time, and after all the crap with the vulture, idk…_

_Peter: the big stuff doesnt seem as cool after being buried in a building._

_Ned: well, your choice, I’m just the guy in the chair so keep me in the loop, k?_

_Peter: Will do. Happy’s tryin to talk to me so gonna have to disappear._

_Peter: Will phone tonight and let you know._

_Ned: cool._

Peter hadn’t called. Two hours after their message exchange he’d tuned in to a live broadcast from Avengers HQ to see Peter, as Spider-Man, walking into the room and Ned had been in awe of how his best friend was becoming an actual avenger.

Then Peter took off his mask.

He told the world exactly who he is with an ugly, dark look in his eyes that didn’t reflect any of the excitement Peter always felt when helping people, either as himself or Spider-Man. Instead there’s something he struggles to place; at first he thinks Peter is angry, calling out all the other superheroes including his own idol Tony Stark, but as he speaks about some unknown danger threatening to possibly destroy the universe, Ned realises that the almost biting words, the bizarre closed-off body language and the information he’s giving away freely all add up to one thing – Peter is overwhelmingly scared.

Sometime in the last two hours, something has happened and Ned has no clue what it was.

Even worse, as Peter leaves the room, Tony Stark joins him, and his expression is carefully blank. Ned gets the sinking feeling that he doesn’t know what’s changed either.

He waits for a call that doesn’t come.

 

There are so many eyes on him as he makes his way to homeroom, so many hands that pat his back and people jockeying for his attention that it makes him want to just turn around and leave again. This is what he’d wanted though, right, just a few weeks ago, when Liz had held a party and he’d tried to get Peter to come in costume to boost their popularity. He’d asked so many times if they could tell everyone only to be shot down each and every time. He’d imagined walking down the hall with Peter beside him, basking in the way people’s eyes would widen and all the jocks and seniors would whisper and maybe actually talk to them in a way that didn’t involve abuse hurled at him about his weight or his nerdy hobbies.

Now he’s alone and their stares feel like weights being dropped onto his shoulders, dragging him downwards with each step he takes. It’s a relief to step into his classroom, even if that means being unable to escape the students already within its confines.

Heads swivel to stare at him immediately, and several kids not in their class linger at the door; Ned is just thankful Flash hasn’t arrived yet.

He takes his normal seat at the back, immediately pulling out his phone to shoot another text to his MIA classmate. He’s just finished when the chair beside him, Peter’s chair, is pulled back with a squeak of the metal legs on the linoleum floors.

His heart rate quickens with excitement as he turns to his friend to start flipping out, only for it to drop back to normal an instant later as someone else takes a seat.

Ned thinks her name is Maria, but beyond homeroom they don’t share any classes, and it’s not as if she’s ever spoken to him before.

“You’re Ned, right?” she opens with, face curving into a soft smile that makes him want to puke with how fake it is.

He opens and closes his mouth several times, completely divided on whether to accept her attention even though it’s blatantly not actually for him, or to try to reject it, possibly by vomiting all over her preppy Abercrombie and Fitch shirt.

“Hey, move.”

The choice is taken from him when, like a goddess, MJ suddenly materialises beside the girl with her trademark glare. When Maria sneers up at her, MJ dumps her bag on the desk and threatens, “I’m not above dragging you out of my way by your trashy extensions, get out of my seat.”

The girl moves. Ned doesn’t blame her, he doesn’t think it’s ever a good idea to actually stand between MJ and what she wants. He does put up a token protest when she slumps into the chair, “That’s Peter’s seat.”

“It’s more likely that institutionalised racism will be destroyed in every country on Earth than it is that that loser will actually come to school today,” she replies dismissively while pulling a book out of her bag.

Ned’s saved from having to respond, or acknowledge the way Maria is still hovering around his desk, when the phone in his pocket starts to buzz.

It can’t be Peter, he knows because he has the Imperial March as his ringtone, but he’s too desperate for any updates, from anyone, to care if it’s his mum or Tony Stark himself calling right now.

When he checks the screen though, he hesitates, holding the phone loosely in his hands to display the words ‘private number’ for the nearest students to see.

He’s preparing himself to move his thumb and accept the call when, with a grumbled “Honestly”, MJ plucks it out of his hand and takes the call before he can react.

“Hello? Hey loser, how’s it going?” There’s a short pause, then the tinny sound of a male voice, loud enough to hear but too quiet to pick out any words. MJ leans into her chair, rocking backwards in it until the front to legs have left the ground and her shoulders are braced against the shelves behind them.

As is the way of MJ, she seems to give zero fucks that the whole class is watching.

“He’s here, I just thought we could have a little chat first…” she trails off ominously, and Ned can almost picture how wide Peter’s eyes must be, and how he probably gulps before replying.

MJ smirks evilly as he babbles through the phone, before finally laughing riotously into the receiver, “You’re way too fun to mess with, dweeb. Also, if you think you and Ned were subtle at all, you’ve got another thing coming; you losers were hella obvious. Plus, I mean, what are the chances of Spider-Man being in D.C. on the same weekend as decathlon was, appearing when you were missing and then freaking out when I said my teammates were inside when the monument started to collapse?”

The whole class stare at her in dumbstruck silence as they let that all sink in, but clearly Peter isn’t surprised as he responds, and Ned can actually pick up a few of his words in the quiet of the classroom, “…not …mates…… friends…”

To Ned’s astonishment, the slightest flush covers her cheeks and she huffs into the phone, “Yeah whatever, just don’t be gone too long or I actually will have to put Flash back on the team, and I’d actually like to keep that trophy for another year.”

The boy in question walks through the door just in time to hear the slur. He takes in the silent room, then the phone in her hand and takes a step forward only to back up immediately in response to MJ’s scowl.

“That is if he’s still on the team this year,” she adds. “Anyway loser, that’s all I wanted to say, don’t bother stopping by. I’ll put you on speakerphone now for you two dweebs to talk.”

The whole class leans forward in anticipation, but MJ just leans forward, the chair legs hitting the floor with a snap, and passes the phone straight back to its owner before turning back to her book.

“Hey Pete,” Ned says and there’s a moment’s pause before his best friend’s voice comes through the line, sounding much livelier than it had on the news.

“Hey Ned, I’m not actually on speakerphone, right?”

“Nah, she was just trolling. So, what’s going on, can I help? Man in the chair, remember?” Ned asks, earnestly.

“Um, I don’t think I can really talk about it on the phone…”

Ned’s a bit bummed but he tries not to let it show in his voice, “No problem, when will you be back?”

The hesitation this time is longer, and it feels tenser, with the whole room listening in to try to piece together the conversation from the half they can hear.

“I- ugh- I don’t think I’m coming back Ned. At least not for now…”

Something painful twists in Ned’s gut and he looks down, presses a hand against his stomach to check because he’s sure he’s just been stabbed.

“You’re not coming back?” he whispers and perhaps he shouldn’t have said that as the whole class shifts forward, the quietest of whispers springing like burst pipes to slowly flood the room. Even MJ stops pretending to read her book in favour of sitting ramrod straight in her chair, eyes on the phone in his hand.

“Not for now, not while this is all happening but maybe in the future” Peter rushes to assure. “Right now, Mr Stark’s going to arrange tutoring on site around Avengers meetings and planning so that I won’t miss too much. I- just- this… thing, it’s really big Ned, I can’t even explain to you right now, I wish I could but I probably shouldn’t even have called when I can’t say anything…”

He’s rambling and Ned slowly pulls himself back together enough to recognise he’ll probably just continue rambling until someone else breaks his train of thought.

And then, as if to prove that very thought wrong, Peter stops himself and almost whispers, “I just really wanted to hear your voice right now.”

There’s something much more fragile about the admission, something that brings back the stark memory of how Peter had looked and sounded on the TV – confident and angry, but more than anything else, scared.

The anger and betrayal Ned hadn’t even realised was building in his gut dissolves because the only time he’d heard Peter sound even slightly that afraid was when he talked about protecting May. Whatever this is, it’s bigger than even that.

“Ok, if you can’t tell me over the phone, when can we talk?”

He knows he’s made the right choice when the relief is audible in his friend’s voice, “Mr Stark said you can come over for the weekend, if you get your mum’s permission? I can show you around the headquarters and introduce you to whoever’s here…”

“Like Tony Stark?” Ned gasps and it can’t make up for losing his best friend to hang out with at school, but he won’t pretend the thought of meeting an icon isn’t at least a decent runner-up prize.

“Yeah, like him. He kinda wants to meet the kid who reprogrammed the suit he made, even if he won’t admit it…”

Ned blanches, “You told him I hacked your suit? Why would you do that?”

Peter laughs and even though Ned is mortified, there’s a small pool of warmth in his gut at the sound of Peter’s happiness.

The sound of the warning bell ringing covers most of it though.

“Hey look, I’m going to have to let you go but can I speak to MJ again real fast?” Peter asks quickly, “I’ll see you Friday, alright?”

“See you then,” Ned promises and offers the phone back to a startled MJ.

For a few seconds, in which he can faintly hear Peter’s murmured voice speaking non-stop, MJ just nods several times, expression serious before finally saying, “No problem, loser, just hurry up with this saving the world bullshit so you can get your ass back to decathlon.”

She nods a few more times before setting the phone down on the desk and ruffling through her pockets. The kids at the front of the class turn back around, clearly believing the conversation to be over, but those closest can see the screen is still lit and a timer is ticking through the seconds as the call continues.

“Ok, I’m recording,” MJ says, suddenly holding her own phone up too, pointed forward at the observing students.

“Hey, Flash,” Peter calls and this time he is on speakerphone, loud enough for the whole class and the daring students who still linger by the doorway to hear. A few of them turn to look at the boy in question, who looks taken-aback at being addressed out-of-the-blue.

Peter let’s the tension build, and just when it’s apparently Flash is going to speak, he crows “Sorry about your dad’s car,” then ends the call.

Ned bursts into uncontrollable laughter just as their teacher walks through the door to start class.

 

 

A few hours North, Peter lets himself into Tony’s lab with a wide grin on his face and Tony feels a tiny piece of the weight in his chest lessen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was meant to focus on Ned, but then MJ snuck in there.  
> Last chapter was meant to focus on May, but then Tony was like 'hello!'  
> I have zero control....


	8. Breathe, then Coordinate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first guests arrive. Team How-About-No is formed (team name up for revision).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot finally starts to come together! Very slowly....
> 
> Your comments keep me writing every day!! Thank you! <3

They manage two whole hours in the lab together, Tony easily distracting Peter from the oncoming storm by throwing new inventions at him left, right and centre, asking his opinions on any number of scientific studies and finally competing against each other in a taunt-filled race to put together a robot from scraps that they then raced through the halls (Tony won, but only because he cheated by smacking Peter’s controls from his hands when he took the lead).

By the time they head to the kitchen for lunch, the good mood that had started to take root after speaking with Ned and MJ had flowered. It wilts a bit when he tries to pry information about the expected guests from Tony, but he’s feeling much more invigorated than he had the previous day as they make their way to the atrium to wait.

“Is Captain America coming?” Peter asks anxiously.

“You’ll see when they arrive,” Tony says exasperatedly, before adding, “But no, he’s not. Why him?”

Peter pauses, wondering whether to continue when there’s a sliver of hurt in Tony’s voice before deciding to push on anyway; Peter knows they’ve already spoken on the phone and they’ll be working together again soon enough, bringing him up in casual conversation is a good warm-up before seeing him in person.

“Do you think he’ll be mad at me for stealing his shield that one time? I mean, he did then drop one of those airport bridge things on me so do you think we’re square?”

“Kid, I think out of everyone, Cap is going to hold the smallest grudge against you so take a breath and chill, ok? Besides, the people coming today are a bit cooler than a guy who deals with problems by tossing a Frisbee at them,” Tony scoffs.

“Oh? Even cooler? Like who?”

“Well, one of the best scien – oh no you don’t! I see what you’re trying to do kid, you think you’re so smart but you can’t trick this out of me. Wait another,” he glances at his watch, “five minutes for them to arrive and you’ll see.”

 Peter laughs, ducking out of reach and falling into a backwards handspring to avoid the swipe Tony aims at him.

It’s an easy move, something he’s done a million and one times before, but just as he’s about to land on the balls of his feet, the ground shifts below him and he tumbles backwards with a startled yelp, hitting something on the way down.

He’s back on his feet in an instant, eyes darting around for any sign on attack only to widen at the sight that greets him. The atrium of the Avengers compound is almost completely gone, the bright, windowed space replaced by a familiar dark foyer, marble floors and a large staircase, lit by interspersed lamps. He'd been in the same room only the day before, though the trip this time is even more surprising. Today, two things stand out, the bald man with slightly rounded features bent over at the waist cackling madly and the small window of light streaming into the room where Peter stands, through a portal that Tony Stark is peering through curiously.

“You ok, kid?” he asks, and the sound is completely unaffected by the magical window it travels through.

“I’m fine, Mr Stark, I’ll just-”

Something prods him in the side, drawing his attention down to see a familiar swathe of red fabric moving independent of any human to point to the ground where Doctor Strange lays, staring back at him looking rather displeased.

“Oh, sorry Mr Strange! I’ll just…” he trails off, shifting quickly to the right to remove his feet from the magic flying cloak he’d been standing on.

“Doctor. It’s _Doctor_ Strange,” he says as he stands, brushing dust off a shoulder as the cloak does the same for the other before heading towards the portal, ignoring his companion. “I really hope you can explain why I sent _you_ back in time rather than anyone else,” he mutters under his breath while stepping through into the Avengers compound.

Peter hears it loud and clear with his heightened senses, “No, sorry, I didn’t exactly… wait a minute, what’s that supposed to mean?”

Doctor Strange ignores him, nodding to Mr Stark in greeting before turning back to stare at Peter, gesturing him through the portal.

Peter sticks a foot through hesitantly, then, seeing it touch the floor without any more surprise trips through space, he jumps back into the well-lit room.

“These portals are so freaking cool!” he exclaims, turning to examine the ring of light surrounding the spatial anomaly, only to see the other man waving goodbye before it snaps closed. Peter stumbles back in surprise, his spider-like reflexes keeping him on his feet. “Hey, I always wondered... what would happened if my hand was in that thing when you closed it?”

Doctor Strange raises an eyebrow mockingly, “Don’t spiders regrow their limbs?”

Peter scowls in response, “The ‘Spider’ in me is a bit outdone by the ‘Man’. It’s not something I’ve really tested.”

“And you’re not going to be testing it. Ever.” Tony insists firmly.

“I’d say you’re more ‘Boy’ than ‘Man’ right now,” Doctor Strange taunts, ignoring Tony completely.

“Oh yeah?” Peter asks, straightening to his full height which is, admittedly a fair few inches shorter than the man opposite him, “Well at least I’ll grow into my name, _Doctor Strange_.”

“I’m a qualified neurosurgeon, or, at least, I was, so I think I’ve earned my title.”

Peter gapes for a moment before pulling himself back together, “I thought you were a wizard? Well, what’s so ‘Strange’ about you then?”

“My name.”

“Your name is strange?”

“Yes.”

“How is it strange?”

“My name _is_ Strange.”

“Ok but how?”

The wizard/neurosurgeon/strange person sighs, much louder than Peter thinks is entirely necessary, before offering his hand, “Steven Strange, a… pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He falters over the word ‘pleasure’ as if regretting ever approaching Peter in the first place.

Peter gawks, “Your _name_ is Strange? Seriously?” he asks, taking the hand for a shake without even thinking about the action, resulting in the limpest handshake he’s ever achieved. “You know how like some family names come from occupations? Like Potter, and Baker? What did your ancestors even _do_ to end up with the name Strange?”

Tony chokes, there’s nothing in his mouth, he just chokes on air before giving the kid the most well-deserved pat on the back he’ll ever give and dissolving into tear-filled mirth.

Doctor Strange, on the other hand, looks like he’s considering dropping the two of them through a portal leading straight into an active volcano, which gives Peter enough pause to actually consider what he just said and burn beet-red in horror, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… Well I did, but not in any _bad_ way though I guess that’s probably how you’d take it…

The cloak reaches out and covers his mouth completely, holding it closed when he tries to continue speaking.

“Kid, I get it, apology accepted, let’s put it all behind us and forget about it, please. I’d be immeasurably grateful if you could just _be quiet_ for three seconds,” he says, exasperatedly.

Peter nods in agreement and slowly, cautiously, the robe pulls away and flutters back to lay as it would if it wasn’t imbued with strange magics.

When he doesn’t immediately start chattering again, Doctor Strange closes his eyes and lets out a relieved sigh.

“Ok, but, can all of you wizards do temporal and spatial magic like that or is it just you?”

Something breaks in Doctor Strange’s expression as Peter continues theorizing and postulating on the subject, “Cause that would be insanely cool, like you can just go anywhere. How does that even work? Can you go back to any time? Are there limits? Why do you think you didn’t send yourself back before Thanos arrived? Have you ever been stuck in a time loop? Is there a distance limit-”

He looks to Tony, “Is this some sort of karma for being an arrogant, genius, douchebag for so many years?” he asks, clearly referencing the similarities between the two of them.

Tony smirks, reaching out to pull Peter back by the collar from where he’d inched closer to the magician and then ruffle his hair fondly, “Only if being an arrogant, genius douchebag gets you good karma.”

Peter’s mouth snaps closed, mid-thought, to stare, doe-eyed, at Tony, “I’m good karma?” he asks incredulously.

“The best,” Tony promises with another hair ruffle, “You can pester Doctor Horrible later, looks like the rest of the crew is finally making an appearance,” he gestures through the large-pane windows to a car coming up the driveway.

Peter’s waiting by the door with a single leap, shifting from foot to foot with restless energy as Tony and, with a groan, Doctor Strange join him.

“Who is it?” he asks again and this time Tony does look exasperated.

“Kid they’re literally ten seconds from getting out of the car, you can wait.”

Peter counts it in his head, totally planning to count aloud from eleven to make a point but the car door opens on six and someone is stepping out and he completely forgets to continue counting.

The first person… he doesn’t recognise. Nor the second, third or fourth. It’s a bit of a let-down really, after all the anticipation. It’s only the fifth person to emerge, closing the car door behind them to indicate they’re the last, that he recognises; Colonel Rhodes, or Rhodey as Mr Stark calls him, the pilot of War Machine. He beckons the rest of the group towards the building and as they approach Peter can’t help try to guess why Mr Stark might have invited them.

“I didn’t realise this was going to be a Sex and the City reunion party,” Doctor Strange scoffs watching the group approach.

Peter offers him a scathing glare, “And would you have made any comment if a group of men got out of that car?”

He doesn’t wait for a response, doesn’t even want to hear what he might say, and instead moves forward as the four women and one man enter the building.

Tony matches his steps then takes one more to stand closest to the group, “Ladies, and Rhodey, thank you for coming. This really could be the worst threat we’ve ever faced so I know you’re probably tired from the journey but we need every able body and brain on this ASAP so if you don’t mind following me, we’ll get started.”

Peter lets the group walk ahead of him, trying to hazard a guess at their identities and relevance to defeating Thanos. Of the women, two are dressed casually, one of which is the youngest in the group, probably in her mid-twenties. The other two are more formally dressed, one moderately so and the last in a well-fitted pant suit that makes Peter feel a tiny bit intimidated.

“Please, take a seat,” Tony offers, pulling Peter from his observations as they enter the same room as the previous afternoon. He gestures Peter to stand at the head of the table with him while the four women and two men take seats along the sides. “Would anyone like any refreshments before we start? FRIDAY, my A.I., is installed throughout the entire building so if you have any requests, just ask.”

The youngest woman raises her hand.

“This isn’t a pre-school,” Tony laughs, “and I’m definitely not a teacher, that’s one degree I didn’t bother with.”

“Can I get, like, a bucket-load of coffee? I’m not really conscious just now, not gonna lie.” The woman beside her jabs an elbow into her ribs but she doesn’t look at all apologetic.

“Sure,” says Tony, unbothered by the request, likely because he’ll be consuming just as much throughout the day, “Anyone else? No? Ok, FRIDAY, if you would.”

“One bucket of coffee, coming up,” the A.I. replies and the four women glance to the ceiling instinctively.

“Cool,” the only woman to speak so far mutters.

“Ok, how about some introductions. I’m Tony Stark, I’m sure you all know me, I’m a bit of a big deal. And my sidekick, Rhodey, a.k.a. War Machine,” he waves a hand vaguely to the chair Rhodey has taken at the left of the table before moving to look at the woman beside him, “Your turn, Little Miss Bucket.”

“I’m Darcy Lewis. Sometimes I use my taser on gods but mostly I’m just here to bring a bit of casual sarcasm to Jane’s research.”

She motions to the blonde woman beside her, who sits forward with her fingers laced on the table, “I’m Jane Foster, I’ve studied-”

“Wait, _the_ Jane Foster,” Peter interrupts, wide eyed, “The astrophysicist? Foster Theory?”

The whole table stares at him for his sudden outburst before Darcy butts in with, “Is this what kids learn in school now-a-days?” disbelievingly.

She gets another elbow to the ribs, this one apparently a lot more forceful if her wince is any indication.

“Yes, that’s me, I’m surprised you’ve heard of me,” she replies, clearly alluding to his age.

“Are you serious? Some of your work is crazy, like good crazy! I read it last year and it was a bit complicated but the hypotheses you’ve developed and the work you’ve done to try to-”

“Ok kid, believe me, I know science is great, but perhaps we can finish all the introductions before you freak out, ok?”

“Sure thing Mr Stark!” he chirps, then adds, under his breath, “I can’t believe you brought _Jane Foster_ to help, oh my god…”

“Yes, well,” Jane continues with a small cough to cover her embarrassment, “As I said, I’m Jane Foster. I’m an astrophysicist and astronomer, but have also had… interactions, with both Thor and Loki. I spent time in Asgard a few years ago. It’s been a while since I last saw any Asgardians though, so I don’t know how much help I can be with that.”

She trails off, and the third woman, opposite her at the table, takes her turn, “My name is Maria Hill. Official I work for Stark,” her tone doesn’t sound thrilled by the statement, “but unofficially I still work for Nick Fury (“Knew he wasn’t dead!” Tony crows) the former commander of S.H.I.E.L.D. who is, officially, dead. I’m not sure I can offer much in terms of science,” she nods to Jane and, reluctantly, to Tony, “but I’m here to keep Fury in the loop and anything the unofficial remnants of S.H.I.E.L.D. can do if this situation is as bad as it seems, I’ll be in charge of organising.”

“My name is Hope van Dyne,” the final woman states immediately. “I’m part of the board for Pym Technologies, but primarily I’m here as a representative of Scott Lang, a.k.a. Ant-Man, a.k.a. Small-Big dude,” she glances at Peter and the corner of her mouth twitches into the smallest of smirks before straightening out again. “I do have some background in physics and chemistry though so hopefully I can offer something of value. I can’t commit to helping constantly since I can’t just put aside my work in San Francisco, but I’ll fly in whenever I can.”

“Appreciated,” Tony says with surprising sincerity before turning to the last man at the table, “Doctor, would you be so kind as to tell the class about yourself?”

The wizard sits up from his slouch with a truly put-upon sigh. He glances at Peter, then straightens out to an actual respectable position before addressing the room, “My name is Doctor Steven Strange. I was a neurosurgeon, now I’m a Master of the Mystic Arts and a protector of the Infinity Stone known as the Time Stone.”

It’s a sign of how much shit they’ve seen that only Hope looks even slightly surprised at the declaration and she quickly buries the reaction under her professional façade.

The room turns to Peter and a reassuring hand gives his shoulder a quick squeeze, “Your turn, Pete.”

Peter gulps, a sudden wave of stage-fright crashing over him at the small group of extremely talented people waiting for him to speak.

“Hi!” he stops and coughs quickly when his voice comes out several pitches higher than usual before trying again, “Hello, I’m Peter Parker. I’m 15 years old and a student at Midtown Tech, and I guess I called you all here today. Oh, I’m also Spider-Man but you probably saw that on the news already so I probably didn’t need to tell you that…”

The hand, that hasn’t left his shoulder since appearing there, squeezes tighter, fingers massaging into his muscles in a silent message to calm down.

He pauses, takes a deep breath, then continues, “In six months, an alien called Thanos will attack the Earth, to find and take the Infinity Stones. We need to stop him because if he collects them all he’ll destroy half the universe. I know all this because yesterday I lived it all, and I watched friends die, then felt my own body turn to dust before waking up here with my memories of the attack and six months to prepare for it.”

The room is silent, Jane and Darcy look horrified, and Maria and Hope’s faces have become pinched. Peter is sure his own is drawn and pallid, as it is every time he thinks of his death.

“I think I’m going to need more than just a bucket of coffee,” Darcy whimpers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me writing this chapter – Peter does something, Tony ruffles his hair.  
> I just want Tony to ruffle his fluffy little head as much as possible to heal my heart.
> 
> Did anyone guess those would be the first guests? I hope not! Also that they didn't disappoint! I ran through all MCU main characters to figure out who would be best, most likely, and also it's possible for them to come so fast.  
> There will be more though, don't worry!!
> 
> Let me know if you spot any mistakes, I write, proof it once and then post haha, it's how I get my thrills... x_x
> 
> Also, I might seem a bit harsh on Doctor Strange in this chapter, but the way he treated Christine in his movie really rubbed me the wrong way. He got better at the end, and in IW, but I think his ego still needs to be brought down a bit...


	9. Breathe, then Recount

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for ever and ever for all the comments and kudos!! <3 <3 <3
> 
> One thing I'd like to request though, and I don't want to be a whiny author, but there's been one or two comments today with comments along the lines of 'You should have....'  
> I am completely open to feedback and suggestions (though I will admit most of the plot and such is rather set, at least enough I probably won't be taking much input) but saying I should have done something differently makes me feel... not so good amount my work?  
> It might just be me being sensitive, but if you could just not use the phrase 'you should have' I'd appreciate it a lot! Even just 'did you ever think about' or even 'can you imagine if...'  
> I am but an overly sensitive author with a whole walk-in closet of anxiety issues and zero self-confidence...  
> So please do comment, cause it helps me a lot, but just that particular phrase makes me feel a bit down...
> 
> Secondly, I'm absolutely exhausted right now. I'll probably take a break from posting tomorrow cause the 'work then write for a few hours until bed much later than planned' schedule is really getting to me. I'll post tomorrow if I have the energy. Also on Friday I have an enkai (work party) so I probably won't post then. Hopefully there'll be a new chapter, but by Saturday at the latest. Sorry :(
> 
> This is getting too long so the rest of the notes at the end.

“I can’t offer you any proof," Peter declares to the room from the head of the table, "there’s nothing I can use at this very moment to convince you I’m not crazy. If you want, we can sit down later and I’ll write down some major events of the next six months but that won’t help until they happen. What I can say is that almost all of us have some experience with Infinity Stones – the Time Stone,” he gestures to Doctor Strange, “the Space Stone, or Tesseract,” he gestures at the room at large as everyone had been affected by the battle in New York, one way or another, “the Mind Stone that is part of Vision, and, from what I have heard, the Reality Stone, or the Aether that you experienced,” he nods to Jane. “You can’t deny how powerful these stones are, the incredible damage they’ve done, so just think of how much stronger they’d be if six of them were wielded by one person.”

He pauses, looking around the group, thankful to see the serious expressions on all the faces before he continues. “I don’t know why Doctor Strange sent me back, there were definitely better choices of people to save the world than me. Maybe it wasn’t even him? Maybe it was an accident? He certainly didn’t say anything about it, and now it’s impossible to find out. It’s not exactly the most pressing matter just now. What I can do, is tell you everything I know about what happened, even that is only some of it, so I’m really going to need you guys to help me. We need plans, lots of them; how to keep Thanos from getting the Infinity Stones, how to take them back from him if we can, how to kill him, how to get the message out to people like Thor who are lightyears away… I don’t know any of that, I didn’t even know about Infinity Stones until I was on a spaceship heading to a far away planet to fight a guy who, honestly, looks a bit like Homer Simpson,” he chokes, panic starting to creep up again the more he speaks, the more he thinks about just how unequipped he is for being the one to coordinate their whole operation, “So, _please_ , let’s all work together, put our egos aside,” he glances to both Mr Stark and Doctor Strange, “and start planning how to save the universe, ok?”

There’s a round of solemn but intent nods. Everyone seems to have taken everything he said seriously, which is much more than he expected as a fifteen year old lecturing a group of professionals.

A hand raises nervously and he turns to Darcy again. She looks a bit anxious, her bottom lip being brutalised between her teeth and her eyes a bit teary.

“Really, Miss Lewis, I’m, like, not your boss or anything, please just ask,” he begs, unnerved by the show of respect.

“Ok, first off, I am definitely not a Miss Lewis, it’s Darcy, otherwise I might vom, and I had leftover curry for breakfast so I really don’t think anyone wants to see, or smell, that. Second, can I give you a hug, I just really need to like protect you right now.”

It takes a second for the request to sink in, and even when he does he glances at the other people in the room to assess whether he even heard it right – nobody’s ever actually asked to hug him before, though the only person who hugs him now is May. And Tony, though that’s a very recent thing, there was definitely a ‘no hugs’ rule going on before, though that seems to have been amended to ‘hug and hair ruffles at any opportunity’ which Peter isn’t exactly objecting to.

“Um… sure?”

Nobody looks surprised, or even confused, when she walks around the table and envelops him in a crushing hug, much stronger than he’s expected from someone who looks pretty squishy, and most likely disgusted by most of humanity… She reminds him a bit of a slightly less hostile MJ, if MJ were in college and survived by drinking vast amounts of coffee.

“Ok, that’s enough,” Tony says after several seconds of hugging, at which point Peter is starting to flounder. “This is my hugging, cuddling super-kid, you need to find your own.”

As if in support of his words, the moment Darcy backs up, Mr Stark’s arm wraps around his shoulders and pulls him to his side.

“As… lovely as this is, could we perhaps get back to the part where we’re planning to stop this alien, Thanos?” Maria Hill interjects dryly.

“Thank you,” Doctor Strange mutters.

“You’re just scared because Peter stimulates parental behaviours in everyone, and that’s at odds with your tough, emotionless exterior,” Tony shoots back at her with a smirk, but he steps away from Peter, after ruffling his hair one last time, in concession.

The mood in the room sinks back to serious as Darcy sinks back into her chair and Peter clears his throat before continuing.

“Ok, well, first things first, I guess I’ll just… tell you what happened when the attack started through to when I died? Then we can discuss the stones.” With a wave of his hand the holographic, interactive display emerges from the table, displaying the notes he’d already started to put together the previous night.

“If you have any immediate questions ask as we go, if they’re not urgent, write them down for later,” he receives a round of understanding nods. “Ok then, let’s get started.”

He takes a deep breath.

“On the 29th of April, Thanos will attack Earth to gain control of the two Infinity Stones that reside here. At roughly 10.30am, a spaceship will appear in Greenwich Village.” He drags a file from the side of the screen to the centre before blowing it up to fill the table. It’s a map of New York, with the relevant areas highlighted in red. “It’s shaped like a vertical doughnut and two aliens emerged from it. Sadly, they’re less E.T. and more Independence Day. I was on a school trip, on Queensboro Bridge, when it appeared so I didn’t get there until the fight had already begun. One of the aliens was huge, super strong and he took hits like crazy. Worst of all, he was the easier opponent. The other had crazy telekinetic skills, he’d barely move but cars and trees would be flying at you. On our side we had me, Mr Stark, Doctor Strange, your… um, other magic friend, the one from before?” he looks to Doctor Strange questioningly.

“Wong, he’s another Master of the Mystic Arts,” he answers, but doesn’t offer any more.

“Yeah, him. And, well,” he hesitates, glancing to Tony before continuing, “Dr Banner was there too, but he wasn’t the Hulk…”

“Bruce?” Tony asks, voice shocked but soft, as if uncertain about even voicing his name, “He was there? Are you sure it was him? He’s been missing for two years now.”

Peter nods, “It was him. We have a picture of him up in school. From what you said, I think he’d just appeared out of the blue, I don’t know where he was before though so it’s going to be difficult to track him down, we can only hope however he got back, he can do it again. He was actually the one to find out about Thanos, I don’t know how, but you guys had some idea of what was going on before we’d even met Thanos…”

“You say there were only two aliens? It wasn’t an invasion like several years ago?” Hope asks when he pauses for breath.

“Only two,” he confirms. “They had entirely different goals – these aliens only wanted the Time Stone whereas the Chitauri were here to invade. Mr Stark, in the future,” he adds when Tony perks up at the mention, “did say that Dr Banner told him that Thanos had been behind the whole invasion as well; he was the one to give Loki the sceptre.”

“Hold up, that doesn’t make sense,” Jane suddenly cuts in, “The sceptre eventually became the Mind Stone, right? Why would Thanos give away an Infinity Stone, just to cause some havoc?”

“Because he…” Peter fumbles for an answer but comes up blank, “Actually, no, I have no clue. To test our defences? Or maybe he didn’t realise we had anyone here capable of standing against him, so he planned to just take over our planet then and there, then obtain the Time Stone whenever he pleased.”

A thoughtful silence falls as Peter mulls over the question some more, but in the end he can only speculate – a lot of the things Thanos did were beyond any logical explanation Peter could come up with, starting and finishing with the whole ‘killing 50% of the universe’.

“Well, in the end the Mind Stone was the last one he managed to attain, but I’ll get to that later… I arrived at the fight to help Mr Stark with the big guy, but then Doctor Strange was ko’d and your magic flying cloak was trying to carry you somewhere safe. Sadly, the creepy telepathic alien caught you, and his ship sent down a tractor beam to suck you up. I caught onto you then we both just got sucked up instead. You were taken inside, and I ended up holding on to the outside as the ship started to leave Earth.”

“On the outside?” Darcy asks, horrified, “Isn’t that all kinds of not good, as in the death variety?”

“It was very much not good, but Mr Stark flew up before I ran out of air and brought my new suit which has its own oxygen system. Then he told me to go back to Earth and I was going to but through some great misfortune I had to go into the ship instead…”

“What kind of _great misfortune_ was that, kid?” Tony asks, an unnerving mix of threateningly and exhausted.

“That’s not important just now Mr Stark, please focus on the main issue.”

“I’ll show you great misfortune,” he grumbles in response but Peter ignores him to continue with the story.

“That was the last time I saw the Earth.” It’s unintentional, but the words come out so miserably, the small amount of humour he and Mr Stark had built disappears in an instant. “From here, I only know what happened in space, and I can only hope there was some form of resistance on Earth… Mr Stark and I regrouped on the ship. The scary alien was torturing Doctor Strange cause turns out he’d done some magic voodoo on the stone to prevent him from getting it. Anyway, we worked together, with your ridiculously sentient cloak, and killed creepazoid by jettisoning him into space, à la Alien, and then sealing the hole in the ship super fast. We could have turned the ship around but Mr Stark said it was better for us to go to Thanos, take him by surprise and all that, try to avoid any collateral damage on Earth… so we kept going.”

Tony looks like he’s struggling to come to terms with the decisions his future self made, so Peter leans closer, gently bumping their arms together in reassurance before continuing.

“It took a few hours, but eventually we reached a planet called Titan. We had a… bumpy arrival, and most of the doughnut ship was completely demolished but we did good enough to survive. And that’s when we were attacked by a group of space cowboys that call themselves the ‘Guardians of the Galaxy’.”

The mood in the room shifts again, as Darcy asks, with an ill-disguised snort of laughter “Guardians of the Galaxy?”

“Yeah, they were a bit… strange. Apparently one of them is a raccoon?” Peter shrugs, helplessly.

“…I’m honestly at the point where I don’t know if you’re just shitting with me,” Tony sighs.

“I wish I was.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't like this chapter. It's boring. But I hope I just hate it cause I'm too tired.  
> Initially I was going to skip over Peter explaining everything, cause we obviously know it, but then I've been finding it hard to keep what HE knows straight in my head, so I figured writing it out would help both you and I, hopefully.
> 
> Lastly, and perhaps important for people who like to guess what's going to happen next (and I really enjoy reading your theories!), my Marvel knowledge is basically limited to the movies (the only one I haven't seen is Hulk), so no TV show characters in this, I'm sorry!!
> 
> Thanks for reading, and sorry again for so many notes and a boring chapter :(


	10. Breathe, then Illustrate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter confronts what happened on Titan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I wasn't going to write today... but your comments were so nice, they really helped pick my mood back up! And I went out with my friend which helped me relieve a lot of stress and I felt so refreshed I wanted to write again, and really enjoyed it!! (so bro, when you read this chapter, you can't be mad at me for writing!!)  
> What I said yesterday still stands for tomorrow though, so don't get your hopes up for a chapter then.
> 
> Quick fic rec if anyone is interested - Peter and the Jailbirds by beautifullights (idk how to link people in the notes??). I started it yesterday and am almost finished today it's so good! Also their attitude and explanations of the Accords are exactly how I feel about them too! So go give it a try if you haven't yet! Well, please read this chapter first but after that...

“He was… um, a really smart raccoon? I think, I never actually met him and it is very possible they’d just found a raccoon and… raccoon-napped it? These guys weren’t the… sanest of people/aliens I’ve ever met, not that I meet many aliens…” Peter trails off with a sigh. The Guardians of the Galaxy were good people, they definitely wanted to help but turns out it’s hard to convey that while still giving a truthful description of them.

“And you trust them with the fate of the universe?” Hope asks in concern.

“I do,” Peter assures her, his voice completely confident, before adding quickly, “it’d just be nice if we could… tone them down a bit, before then.”

“If you can spend time with Tony Stark without any problems but turn around and say these people need to tone it down they must be out of this world. …no pun intended,” Hope responds, clearly enjoying the way Tony bristles at the slight, but sitting back to let him continue.

“Anyway, the raccoon wasn’t there when we met them, he was away with someone called Groot, I think? Don’t really know anything about Groot except he’s got a bad attitude cause he’s a teenager, which is pretty offensive and ageist now I think about it! They were off on an important mission of their own which I’ll come to later. _Anyway_ , we were attacked by three of them – Mantis, Drax and… Star-Lord.”

Saying the other Peter’s superhero name with a straight face, to a table of adults that he either admires or is secretly terrified of, is not something the humiliations of teenage life had prepared him for; clearly big Peter has either zero shame or the worst taste in names ever if he thinks the one he chose is good. The responses range from muffled snickers to all out belly-laughs and they’re not even aimed at him but he feels vicarious embarrassment fill him anyway, his cheeks flushing red at their mirth.

“FRIDAY, could you try to illustrate if I describe them?” he asks while he waits for the ‘adults’ in the room to calm down.

“I can try my best, Peter,” the A.I. promises as the last of the laughter fades to silent but wide smiles.

“Mantis was possibly the most useful. After we realised all of us were there to try to kill Thanos, we teamed up and devised a plan, most of it came from Mr Stark but once we knew their powers we were able to fit them into it too and it damn near worked. She had pale skin and dark hair down to her shoulders. Her main features were her black eyes, and the two antennae that came from the top of her forehead.” FRIDAY starts to create an image  in the centre of the table as he speaks and he shakes his head when she adds the antennae, “They were more moth-like than mantis-like, ‘cause they were feathery at the very end. They would light up when she used her powers.” He nods at the very basic illustration FRIDAY creates, nowhere near her soft, fragile features but enough for those in the room to at least make an educated guess as to her identity if they were to meet in a dark alley, or strange planet. “She was an incredibly strong empath and could use her powers to influence others too. When we tried to take Thanos down, we were able to pin him long enough for her to latch onto his head and put him in a dormant state, almost as if he were on standby, while we tried to remove the gauntlet from his hand. The gauntlet is his receptacle for the Infinity Stones, and it lets him use their powers in an instant. When he arrived on Titan, he had four of the six stones so we were already facing overwhelming odds…”

He trails off, thinking of just how unlikely victory had been at that point, and of just how close they’d managed to come before shaking the thoughts away; he has a few more minutes before having to explain that disaster, and he’d prefer to avoid it for as long as possible.

“Where was I? I guess Drax is next. He’s an alien too, also humanoid. He had an aversion to shirts, was bald, and very outright with his opinions. His skin was grey-blue with red patterns all over his chest and face, almost scar-like. On his face they were focused around his eyes. He seemed strong, and I’m sure in any other fight he’d have been able to plough through his opponents like a knife through butter, but against Thanos he didn’t stand much of a chance. He’s determined though, and he helped to pin him down for Mantis to do her job.”

He pauses to inspect the picture FRIDAY has created based on his description and can’t help but laugh; she’d simply taken an image of Vin Diesel, photoshopped it blue, then added some red swirls.

“Is that not an accurate representation, Peter? I could switch to Bruce Willis instead?” she quips.

“Nah, that’s great, FRI, a perfect likeness.”

His chuckles fade away, and he procrastinates for a moment by taking the glass Tony nudges towards him, only realising how rough his voice is already becoming when the cool water soothes some of the rawness in his throat. The room waits patiently for him.

“The last one is Star-Lord.” A round of muffled snickers fills the room again, sounding more like a nest of snakes that’s been disturbed than a group of superheroes, scientists and business women, so Peter ignores them and continues. “He was from Earth, Missouri apparently, but he must have been in space for a long time ‘cause he didn’t realise Missouri was on Earth. Either that or he’s just dumb; it’s hard to say, he thought Footloose was the greatest movie of all time, so…” The horrified gasp that Darcy emits at the statement is very reassuring. “Anyway, his real name is Peter Quill, so please either use Star-Lord, as distasteful as it is, or Quill to avoid confusion. He looked… he looked kinda like that one guy from Parks and Rec, you know, the really dumb one?”

Once again, Darcy immediately catches on, but surprisingly, someone else speaks up first, “Andy Dwyer?” Maria Hill asks, then scowls at the surprised looks aimed at her, “What? It’s a good show! I’m allowed to watch TV shows in my free time!”

“Are you? Really?” Tony asks doubtfully, only for Peter to give him a disappointed look.

“No fighting, we’re adults, but yes that’s the one,” he confirms with a short nod to Maria as FRIDAY brings up a picture. “He looked like him, except he was a lot more toned; not exactly on Thor’s level of godly physique, he still had a bit of weight on him, but he was definitely fit enough to fight. From what I could tell, he might have had some physical power-up, but not on level with Captain America from what I saw. He was pretty good with witty one-liners, but I’d say Mr Stark’s are still better.”

“The best, I think you’ll find,” Tony says, mock offence colouring his voice.

Peter raises an eyebrow in response, “Yours aren’t bad, but when I left you, I was but the learner, now I am the master.”

“Only a master of evil, Spidey,” Darcy whispers under her breath when nobody else seems to catch the reference. “Star Wars,” she explains exasperatedly when she notices their confused looks, “Honestly you guys are all too old.”

“ _Anyway_ ,” Peter continues before anyone can respond, though he appreciates the sly wink she sends his way, “Star-Lord… Quill used a lot of equipment to fight; two blasters that seemed to pack a decent punch, and jet-powered boots that gave him both speed and manoeuvrability, and some tech that he could use to manipulate gravity in localised areas, or that’d be my best guess at least, I only saw it once.”

There’s a spark of inspiration in Tony’s eyes at the concept, and Peter vows to be careful each time he enters the lab from now on to avoid being pinned to the roof against his will.

“That was our line-up for the fight: Mantis, Drax, Quill, Doctor Strange, Mr Stark and myself. Before Thanos arrived, Doctor Strange used the Time Stone to look at every single alternate universe to see the outcome of the fight…” he hesitates, because this is news he wished he hadn’t been told, and he’s not sure how to break it to them without it breaking their spirits at the same time.

“You never told us what I saw; how many universes had us winning?” Doctor Strange asks, cutting straight through any layers of padding he was working on adding to the information to soften the blow.

“One,” Peter admits, voice nothing more than a whisper despite the way the word carries clearly through the room.

“How many alternate realities did he check, do you know?” Jane asks, her voice quivering.

“A lot. I think he said 14 million. So, there’s a chance, it’s not impossible, just…” Peter trails off, the statistics speak for themselves, it’s not something he can sugar-coat in any way. A 0.000007% chance doesn’t really feel that much more promising than 0.

“Could you check again?” Darcy asks, hopefully, “We have Peter’s help now, so surely the odds have changed, right?”

Hope jumps in to respond before Doctor Strange can, “It’s probable the odds have changed, but it’s still six months until this fight, and the number of alternate reality making choices between then and now is probably much closer to infinity than it is to 14 million…”

“That’s right,” Doctor Strange confirms, his frown looking significantly more serious than usual, “I imagine in the future I used the Stone to check the outcome of the battle not long before it took place, and even then, checking 14 million possible futures would have been a strain on my mind and soul. If I were to try it now, it’s likely I’d be brain dead before I even saw any of the results, the influx of information would be too much; we’re lucky the same didn’t happen to me, then.”

The sombre news sits heavily on the group, whatever positive atmosphere the earlier jokes and references had built crashes down around them like a warehouse with it’s support pillars destroyed, in that Peter feels like he’s choking on ash once more.

“Do you, er, have any _good_ news for us, kid?” Tony asks, having to wet his throat in the middle of the question when his voice cracks painfully.

Peter takes a breath, a long inhale, and then a strong release, before answering, “Yes. When Thanos arrived it was just him, but he had the Space, Power, Reality and Soul Stones already, so only the Time Stone and Mind Stone were left.”

“If that’s the good news I might just end it all now,” Tony interrupts bleakly, and Peter gives him a sharp smack on the arm to silence him (if his hand then falls to rest reassuringly on Tony’s forearm then it’s entirely a coincidence.)

“Like I said, he had four stones, but we had one and we were waiting for him. Our plan was simple: pin him down, let Mantis mess with his head, then remove the gauntlet so we can kill him. And it worked. Between the five of us – us three, Drax and Quill, we were able to pin him down. Doctor Strange sent his super awesome cloak in to wrap up the gauntlet to keep him from using it and also provided magical portals for me to attack from. Mr Stark, Quill and Drax were the main assault team, and eventually, somehow, we had him held tight with my webs, Quill’s gravity manipulators, and Drax and Mr Stark physically holding him the few seconds it took for Mantis to drop through a portal and mind-whammy him. Mantis was working so hard, and the gauntlet was held tight on his hand, but me and Mr Stark were on it, and almost got it off… I did get it, for a split second it was off his hand… and then…”

He can’t continue, his brain can’t even think about what happened next because it’s too busy replaying the second-long scene, reliving the feel of the dense metal between his fingers, finally removed from Thanos’ control only to be ripped back at the very last moment. The feeling of victory, success, achievement, triumph in his grasp only to be instantly torn away again.

“What happened, kid?” Tony asks, voice a hushed whisper, almost too soft to catch as if he doesn’t actually want to hear the answer even though he knows he must.

“If only I’d held on tighter, or moved faster…” he mutters only for Tony to take his face in hand and turn it to meet his eyes head on.

“Was it your fault?” he asks, knowingly, and Peter can’t honestly say yes while staring into the concerned eyes of his mentor.

“No, there was nothing I could have done,” he admits.

“I know, you would have done everything possible to save the universe. So, what happened?” he asks again, releasing Peter to face the room.

He stares at the table for a few seconds, taking the time to force down all the feelings of self-hatred and disappointment for letting Thanos snatch the stones back before continuing.

“Gamora.”

“What is Gamora?” Darcy asks.

“Gamora… is Thanos’ daughter,” he announces.

The tension in the room rackets up, and it takes Peter several seconds, and a colourful mix of Darcy’s swearwords, to figure out why.

“It’s not what you’re thinking, I never met Gamora, she wasn’t on Titan with us,” he explains quickly.

“Then how did she cause Thanos to win?” Doctor Strange asks, finally sitting forward in his chair, as desperate to hear the conclusion of the story as the rest of them.

“Gamora was the sixth member of the Guardians of the Galaxy, and was in love with Quill. When Mantis was effectively mind-melding with Thanos, she was able to pick up all his emotions, including grief and morning. A second alien, Gamora’s sister, confirmed what she said; Gamora was the only person in the universe to know where the Soul Stone was hidden. Thanos forced her to tell him, took her to retrieve it, and came back with it, but not her. He killed her to get the Soul Stone.”

He looks solemnly around the horrified room, “Quill went crazy and Mantis lost control of Thanos. We tried, but he was on another level after that, full of rage and pain. He ripped the surface off a moon and threw it at us, I lost track of the fight after that for a while, too busy trying to save the Guardians who were out of the fight. When I got back, Thanos had… completely destroyed Mr Stark’s suit, and Doctor Strange gave the Time Stone to Thanos, in order to save Mr Stark’s life, the complete opposite of the promise to let us die to protect it he made on the journey there. Once Thanos had it, he just left; he used the Space Stone and just disappeared to Earth, leaving the seven of us, with Gamora’s sister, to wait. Not even ten minutes later, he clicked his fingers on Earth, and five of us turned to ashes. I woke up here.”

The room is silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer - I haven't seen Parks and Rec so if my description is incorrect please help me fix it!!
> 
> …I trolled myself and didn’t even realise I’d continued the “Where/Who/Why is Gamora?” joke with ‘What is Gamora?” until I was rereading! If anyone spotted that before this, kudos to you! Also was just reading that "Why is Gamora?" was ad libbed! So many of the best parts of the movies were ad libbed and that makes me love it so much more!
> 
> Peter is almost finished with discussing what happened, so soon the planning will start! (which also means I should do some more planning ahahahahahaha.............. oh god)


	11. Breathe, then Confer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They say hope is a light to lead the way.  
> Right now, Peter sits in the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back!  
> Not sure about this chapter again, but trying to focus on being proud of getting anything written than worrying about whether it's liked a lot or not...

The deafening silence lasts for several minutes, during which Peter leans into Mr Stark’s side, seeking comfort while he focuses on taking deep breaths and trying to stop his heart beating out of his chest with fear at the memory of their loss.

“Would you say,” Hope begins hesitantly, staring at the table rather than him, “that if Quill hadn’t lost control, you could have beaten him?”

The question, one he’d asked himself thousands of times in the last day alone, still remains unanswered, “I don’t know, we only ever fought him with the Gauntlet on, so trying to guess our chances if he didn’t have it is impossible. I can only say they would have been higher than they were. During the fight he had the four stones, but as far as I could tell he only used the Power and Space stones. I’d add that I don’t really know how the stones work though, especially the Soul stone. I’d guess it was responsible for the mass genocide he committed, but how it acts independent of the other stones, I don’t know. It might be like a dementor, capable of sucking souls out of bodies…” He shudders at the thought, “I hope not…”

Jane asks the next question, preventing the room from falling to a despondent silence again, “Is there anything else from the fight that you would say went well?”

Peter has to stop and think about that one, everyone in the room desperate for him to somehow answer ‘yes’ to the question, but in the end, he can only disappoint them, “Not that I can think of, I’m sorry. Once Thanos got serious, we were quickly outmatched, and once he had the stone he disappeared before we could get a second chance at taking him down… I guess there is one thing… It’s as depressing as it is hopeful really, but once we lost and Thanos left, it was about five or ten minutes before we all turned to dust. That means whoever was with Vision on Earth, or possibly _just_ Vision, I don’t know… Whoever was there, they managed to hold him off for that long, even when he had five of the six stones. I’m going to choose to think of that as a good thing, because I really need some positivity in my life right now.”

Rhodey and Jane nod in agreement, but everyone else is too busy looking like Thanos is set to arrive in an hour rather than six months to react.

“Ummm, can I offer a suggestion?” Darcy suddenly pipes up with a questioning look to Peter who gestures for her to continue, “Well, your explanation of everything was really helpful, but hopefully it won’t come to any of that happening again, so could we maybe do a superhero roll call and figure out where everyone was, like Thor for example, you haven’t said much about him?”

Peter smacks himself, “Sorry, I forgot. I didn’t see Thor at all, but the Guardians did. They picked him up from space and then he took off with Rocket and Groot to get a new weapon to fight Thanos with. They said that Thor had already fought Thanos, and was defeated easily… They also said that… Thanos killed Loki.”

Peter isn’t surprised when Tony tenses in surprise at the news, but he is when Jane and Darcy exchange confused looks.

“Loki died fighting the Dark Elves when I was possessed by the Aether,” Jane explains.

“Are you sure?” Peter prompts, “From what I’ve heard, Loki sounds a bit like a Joss Whedon character – if you don’t see their body, they’ll probably come back… Except this time I guess, apparently Thor was pretty certain. That said, the Guardians said he’d also said that his dad had died and then his sister had tried to kill him and they’d destroyed Asgard, so I’m not a hundred percent sold on their retelling of the story, but I also don’t know how being a god works so…”

“Let’s, um, just put a question mark beside Thor’s name just now, shall we?” Darcy suggests uncertainly.

“It’s a good idea though,” Hope says, “We need to figure out how to contact everyone we need and brainstorming who that is is a good start.”

An instant later the holographic display switches, showing a colour coded mind-map with all of the people Peter has mentioned throughout his explanation.

“This is an illustration of the knowledge Peter has given me so far regarding the location of superheroes and people of similar importance during the events of April 27th,” FRIDAY explains. “As you can see, they are grouped by their location; Earth, Titan, or Space: Unknown. They are also then colour coded by the ease of communication in the present, starting from blue, which represents those currently in the compound and thus easy to communicate with, to those whose location is unknown in space and thus are more problematic when one would like to make contact with them, they are coloured red. Additional information can also be added on request, such as relative importance to the events,” some names are enlarged while others shrink. It’s still a bit shocking for Peter when his name is the largest, “or known casualties,” the names all return to the same size, but this time several of them are scored out; Peter’s breath catches at the sight of his own. “Furthermore I can-”

“Ok, that’s enough FRIDAY, thank you,” Mr Stark interrupts suddenly, his voice gruff.

“Yeah, thanks FRI,” Peter repeats a bit vacantly. “Would you be able to put the data about the Infinity Stones together in the same way?”

“Certainly,” she promises, her voice a bit softer than usual, and maybe even slightly apologetic as the data appears.

The names of the six stones are coloured in to match them. FRIDAY hasn’t just filled in the information Peter gave her, but any she has about the individual stones in summarised notes. It leaves the graphic rather unbalanced, with the Space Stone with many lines of text, ending finally with the line; “Removed from Asgard before its destruction?”

The power and reality stones have only notes on their uses, or at least FRIDAY’s own conclusions about them, but the stone with the scarcest information of all is, unsurprisingly, the Soul Stone.

_Gamora. Killed by Thanos._ That’s all it says.

“That’s most of it, thanks FRI,” Peter says, “I’ll try and add a few more notes, if you could help out with the Time Stone that’d be appreciated,” he adds with a nod to Doctor Strange. “Then, if we could ask Vision to do the same for the Mind Stone… Where is Vision, anyway?”

He turns to Tony whose jaw clenches in frustration, “I’ve been in touch, he should be back soon, but I’ll give him another call to check in with him once we’re done here. Hopefully he’ll arrive tomorrow at the latest.”

“It’s fine, at least we know he’s on his way. I think after this meeting we should focus on quickly setting up communication with everyone we can on Earth: video conference meetings on the regular at the very least, and preferably a representative of each group here in person if possible. Thankfully we’re already doing well on that front,” he says with a nod to both Hill and Hope. He turns back to the display, “FRI, can you switch this part to represent current locations, rather than when Thanos arrives?” The display ripples, then rearranges itself to two categories, ‘Earth’ and ‘Not Earth’. His mouth becomes pinched as he looks at the group of names that fall under the ‘Not Earth’ group,

“Once the easy stuff’s out of the way, we can focus on figuring out how to get the rest of the team together before Thanos arrives, we’re going to need everyone on this list…”

The door to the room creaks open before the futility of the task can set in; “I think I can help with that,” the newcomer declares confidently, smiling brightly as he enters.

T’Challa looks majestic with the light of the setting sun illuminating him from behind, highlighting the finest of gold threads running through his clothing. It feels as if God, who Peter is really on the bench about but willing to believe in right now if that’s what it takes, is speaking to them, using this glorious man as his voice.

Right up until there’s a _thwap_ and T’Challa curls forward, holding his beaten head.

“Shuri! What was that for?” he complains, glancing behind him at the much slighter person who shoves past him into the room.

“Idiot brother! They were talking about the parts of their team floating around in space, not your little pet fugitives who are running around Wakanda somewhere! Now, obviously I’ve got some plans for space travel, but you’re always so demanding I don’t have time to work on my own projects, so unless you’ve got another genius scientist somewhere that _has_ had the time, I think you should apologise to the nice people for getting their hopes up!”

Peter watches in awe as she struts in, berates the Black Panther (also the King of Wakanda but it’s not hard to admit which is the cooler title), helps herself to a seat at the table and immediately picks up a tablet and starts to flick through all the information Peter has explained so far while ignoring them completely.

T’Challa sighs, “I’m sorry everyone, both for my misplaced comment, and also for my little sister – she can be a bit of a handful I’m afraid, but when I tried to leave her behind she threatened to replace my suit with a hello kitty version…”

“I know what that’s like,” Peter pipes in without thinking, before flushing a horrific shade of red when T’Challa turns to him with an eyebrow raised in surprise. Peter purposefully keeps his back to the rest of the table, hoping to ignore the snickers from Darcy, Rhodey and even Jane if he doesn’t look at them. Instead he takes a step closer to the man, immediately noting the two incredibly intimidating women flanking him just outside the door, looking entirely unimpressed with the whole situation.

Peter gulps, watching as Tony pulls the man into a hug without hesitation, receiving a hearty back-patting as he does. The man-king-panther then turns to him and Peter sticks out a hand that most definitely isn’t shaking with nerves, “I’m, ugh, Spider-Peter, um, Parker-Man, no…” he lowers the hand in mortification, turning to face the ceiling with an ‘oh god why’ look of desperation, so he doesn’t notice T’Challa moving until he’s pulled into a hug of his own.

“I know who you are, Peter Parker, and what a good heart you have. Tony called me after you returned and I came as quickly as I could. He talks about you a lot, you know?”

“I do not!” Tony says, with mortified outrage.

T’Challa just ignores him, pulling Peter into a tighter hug to stage whisper in his ear, “He’s a worrier.”

“Alright, that’s enough! Invitation revoked, you can just hop back on your plane now, your majesty, I’m sure we’ll be fine here,” Tony blusters, pulling Peter away from the man.

“If the two of you could stop flirting, maybe we could get back to figuring out how to get in touch with some aliens?” the Princess, Shuri, says impatiently, barely even glancing at them before turning back to the information on the tablet. “Who here does science?”

Jane, Hope, and Tony raise their hands immediately, (Doctor Strange seems to be trying to ignore the arrival of another teenager) but Peter hesitates, “Well, what exactly do you-” Tony takes him by the wrist and raises his hand for him and finally Shuri does spare more than a second of her attention to look around the room with a delighted smile.

 “What about the rest of you?” she asks, bluntly, and Peter watches T’Challa run a hand down his face, a bit dramatically in Peter’s opinion, but he doesn’t live with the woman currently forcefully inserting herself into the meeting.

“I’m here to give the stupid-person perspective on things; sometimes you geniuses are too smart to notice the obvious stuff,” Darcy volunteers quickly, apparently earning Shuri’s approval as she turns to Maria Hill next.

The former (?) S.H.I.E.L.D. agent raises an unimpressed eyebrow in response and the Princess actually claps in delight, “Perfect, you can stay!”

Doctor Strange, with the sigh of a man whose spirit has been broken beyond all repair, waves a hand through the air, opening a portal that reveals grassy plains as far as the eye can see. Peter senses T’Challa shifting beside him, his body tensing slightly at the sight, “That’s Wakanda,” he says, his voice edged with a threat.

“Yes it is, I’m a master of the mystic arts, that’s why I’m here.”

Shuri, while looking impressed, waves a hand dismissively, “It’s science, not mystic arts, even if I can’t explain it yet.”

Doctor Strange lets the portal snap closed, valiantly chooses to ignore Shuri’s comment, and adds, “I’m also a trained neurosurgeon, but it’s been a while since I practised.”

To that Shuri nods approvingly, then turns to Rhodey who puts his hands up in surrender, “I’m just here to try to follow along with the plan and learn more about who we’re going to be fighting,” he admits.

Shuri turns immediately back to the tablet, starting to tap out new notes with her own thoughts beside whatever information she’s currently looking over, “Alright, everyone currently here can stay,” she declares haughtily, “That means you’re on coffee duty, brother; the fate of the world rests on your shoulders, so do your best.”

The shocked silence of the room is broken by the snorts from the two women by the door, who feign innocence when T’Challa turns to them with a wounded expression.

“If I remember right, the Queen Mother decreed that you weren’t to have coffee for the month after you blew up the kitchens last week…”

“Her exact words were actually-”

“Shuri.” T’Challa’s voice is less playful this time, and in an instant the teenaged princess settles quietly in her seat, a slight pout on her lips but otherwise willing to listen to her brother’s wishes.

“I’m sorry about her, she gets a bit excited, but I think you’ll find she’s worth putting up with because she’s more than able to hold her own when it comes to science,” he promises and Shuri brightens once more at the compliment.

It takes Peter several seconds of awkward silence to realise the words are aimed at him, rather than Tony, and he fumbles for a response, “Oh, no, it’s fine, I mean she’s fine, in a completely professional way, not like _fine_ fine, not that she isn’t of course, I mean, it’s fine that she is annoying, I’m annoying too most of the time, wait, I didn’t mean to say your sister’s annoying, I wouldn’t know, just that you were implying she was so I was basing my own statement off yours not from my own opinion of her just…”

A palm closes of his mouth and Tony presses against his side with a reminder to “Breathe, Pete,” before letting him go again.

He does, then tries again, “It’s fine, we’re happy to have the two of you here to help. Now, I’m sure Princess Shuri-”

“Just Shuri, please,” she insists quickly, with a kinda cute smile.

Peter nods and tries not to blush, “Ok, I’m sure Shuri has already looked through most of the information in the files, but if you’d prefer, FRIDAY can show you the recordings of the meeting so far?” he offers T’Challa.

“I think I know enough to manage for now with just the summary files, though I’ll watch the recording tonight,” he promises with a nod before moving to take the seat beside Shuri.

“Ok,” Peter says breathily, still slightly off-balance from the two new arrivals, turning back to the rest of the room, “We’re still stuck on the same problem: how can we get in touch with Thor and the Guardians. And then, also, how can we prevent Thanos from getting his hands on the stones, especially the ones not on Earth?”

The room falls back into an uncomfortable silence, the two new additions looking as defeated as the rest of them by the questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've sadly only seen BP once, so the characterizations sadly are probably a bit off, but I enjoyed writing Shuri and T'Challa being siblings, I hope it lightened the chapter a bit.  
> Actual solutions might start to take shape next chapter... but don't hold your breath xD
> 
> Also it's my birthday tomorrow but I have no plans haha, I'm too old and boring!
> 
> Thanks for reading, let me know what you think!!


	12. Breathe, then Support

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Bucket (name still up for revision) starts to pull together a plan.  
> Peter still needs to pull himself together (but until he does, there are people who will hold all the pieces in place)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! With a midnight update! On a school night! :O  
> Thank you for all the birthday wishes, I had a nice quiet day; cleaned my house, finished writing my 150k first novel (!!!!!!!!!!), and then watched Homecoming as a treat for myself!  
> Let me know what you think of this chapter!
> 
> Warning - Peter decided near the end of this chapter that he's not ready to be ok yet, completely understandably, so warning for panic attacks, but the actual attack is short so I hope nobody will be upset by it!
> 
> One last thing, please take a moment to have a look at the relationships tags on this fic, there's only two so it'll be a very short moment! I promise I update tags as I see fit, including if any relationships start to develop in this fic. I got a lot of messages last chapter along the lines of 'oh no don't make this __________' or 'The __________ interaction!!' which is fine no worries, doesn't stress me too much, but just so everyone's aware I don't plan on there being any romance in this fic for Peter. I just think he's the type of kid who can acknowledge that people are cute or do cute things in his head, even if he might not say them aloud, so don't expect anything to come from him thinking Shuri was cute - he thought that cause she is. No hate for whatever Peter ship you have, just a heads up it probably won't happen here, I've already got my hands full with Peter & Tony!

The occupants drift from the room slowly over the course of the evening after a plethora of pizzas had been shared over work. Everyone at the table had given their own suggestions for how to contact Thor, Bruce and the Guardians, but by the end of the day, as each new theory was shot down, the aura of hopelessness filling the room grew thicker.

Darcy suggested Dr Strange simply open a portal to Asgard and they all stroll through right then and there to see if it’s been destroyed. Doctor Strange irritably explained that _the mystic arts just don’t work like that_. His portals require at least a vague understanding of where they’re leading to, otherwise the connection would lose its stability and pieces could be lost in transmission.

(“Oh, like splinching!” Peter exclaims in understanding, and half the table nods in agreement. Doctor Strange is not part of that half, but he seems to have resigned himself to not understanding what the younger members of the group are saying.)

Additionally, the energy he’d need to create a portal to a planet an unknown distance away would be immeasurable; portals on Earth, fine; portals to the moon, probably; portals hundreds of light years away? Probably not.

And so that idea is shelved quickly.

Doctor Strange quickly turns the discussion back on them – could they not open an Einstein-Rosen bridge to Asgard, the two of them have spent many years studying the phenomena after all.

Jane shoots it down with an immediate, “No.” Just because she’s studied them for years, doesn’t mean she’s ever managed to create one herself, and she’s tried. (Or in her own words, “You’re a neurosurgeon, right, Doctor Strange? You’ve seen a lot of brains, studied how they work. Could you create a brain right now?”)

The idea isn’t even removed from it’s dusty shelf before being pushed back into its place.

The third thought comes from a hesitant Hill, after a good half hour of silence broken only by the sounds of frustrated sighs and hair being tugged between fingers; alien technology? The D.O.D.C. and remaining S.H.I.E.L.D. groups have a lot of foreign technology from the Chitauri invasion several years before, since it’s from space, would it not, possibly, be conceivable that they could try to manipulate any functioning items they have to open a portal to space?

The idea garners a moment’s silence in the room, as everyone ponders the suggestion and can’t, immediately, find any holes in it. They manage several minutes of excited science babble, mostly between Peter, Shuri and Jane, before Tony brutally tears down the suggestion without even glancing up from his Starkpad; “Good idea Hill, except 80% of the ‘tech’ we picked up from New York was actually pieces of the Chitauri themselves. 19% of the remainder was weapons, which I’m sure S.H.I.E.L.D.R.A. loved using for their neo-nazi movement, but for us… not so good. The final 1% was their vehicles, and I reviewed them just now but they have zero functions except those directly relating to speed and direction, so use them to open a portal through space is just as likely as using a Duracell battery.”

The whole table wilts, but Maria isn’t quite finished, “What about the Tesseract? We don’t have it now, but S.H.I.E.L.D. studied it for a long time, we still have all the measurements we managed to get from it; could we use those and try to simulate the effect?”

Tony’s off the moment she mentions the Space Stone, fingers flying across the tablet for several seconds before charts and data-sets are being blown up over the table for them all to see. Figures appear one after the other, and after the first ten Peter gives up trying to keep up with the overwhelming speed and glances around the table at the others. Jane has given up too, and it seems as if the others were never trying. Except Shuri of course, her eyes are scanning desperately from one figure to the next, pupils blown wide as if to absorb as much of the information in as short a time as possible.

When finally, no more data sets appear, a good fifty sets and five minutes later, Tony’s eyes are also wide, but with excitement and the slightest sliver of hope, “This could-”

“Work,” Shuri finishes confidently, “But only in that we’ll then know how the Tesseract made portals, at _most_.  We still won’t know our destination, how to even add a desired destination when we do know it, and finally how to power a wormhole that will be going across the universe and has to last long enough to give us time to get there, explain what’s happening, and then come back with Thor.

It’s a dent in the idea’s iron walls, but Tony’s used to dents in iron (“It’s not actually made of iron, kid”) after all the fights he’s been through, and it’s the best they’ve got so he and Shuri put their heads together to debate while Peter and Jane try to catch up and the rest of the table turns back to brainstorming any other plans.

By eight that night, they’re no closer to understanding the readings from the tesseract, and all other suggestions for contacting at least Thor, since he’s easiest to pinpoint, have been half hearted at best: Hope had helplessly suggested building a spaceship – surely with the number of geniuses in the room it would take a week, tops; Rhodey, after a stream of frustrated, censored swear words from Tony, wittily pondered converting to the worship of the old Norse gods, in the hope that they’ll take notice and pop down for a visit; Doctor Strange had been even less help, with the dry suggestion that they build a giant radio, send it into Earth’s orbit, and broadcast ‘Help!’ by the Beatles into space, on an endless repeat, and hope the message reaches those who they need.

Unfortunately, or fortunate for the sake of Peter’s sanity, Darcy had latched onto the idea and decided a playlist would be much more effective. So far she’d come up with:

Help! By the Beatles

Dear God Please Help Me by Morrisey

Mercy by Duffy (a track for Thanos, if he happened across the broadcast)

Shout Out to My Ex by Little Mix (Jane cringes when Darcy cracks up while suggesting it)

Under Pressure by Queen and David Bowie

Holding Out for a Hero by Bonnie Tyler

But Peter is sure by the time they all meet again the next morning she’ll have a full album ready.

Regardless of Darcy’s full-hearted attempts at keeping their moods up, the group is sombre when they go their separate ways, and Peter is desperately happy to see May in the kitchen with Pepper when the last stragglers leave the room.

“How’d the meeting go, my little superhero?” she asks, arms opened wide for a hug that he sinks into without a moment’s hesitation.

He doesn’t answer her question, sinking his head into her shoulder to breathe in her scent as his fingers curl carefully into the soft fabric of her cardigan.

“You’ll get there,” she whispers soothingly in his ear, a hand caressing through his hair, “These things take time and patience, but I know you’ll figure it out, you always do.”

“What if I don’t?” he murmurs back, a mouthful of her shoulder mangling the words almost beyond comprehension.

“I don’t think that’ll be the case, you’re smarter than you give yourself credit for. Besides, if you can’t” she continues before he can object, “you’ve got other people to help; your team, and boy is it a good one!”

He sniffles, disgustingly loudly, but doesn’t reply.

“Come on, Pete; chin up, have some faith in yourself,” when that doesn’t work, she adds, “have some faith in Tony Stark, I didn’t think you’d lose trust in him!”

Peter finally looks up, a red-rimmed glare on his face, and his mouth set in a pouting frown, “That’s not fair.”

“You’d better not be losing trust in me,” Tony declares as he enters the room to greet a silent Pepper, having finally extracted himself from an impassioned debate with Shuri, “Right now I still hold the keys to your trust fund, even with the end of the world looming over you it’s still good to spare a thought for college too – M.I.T. is close enough for you to swing by on weekends if you want to see us, or throwback to the days of being a neighbourhood Spiderman.”

Tony’s insistence on M.I.T. even now, brings a slight smile to his face, “I don’t know, I’ve heard Cali has some good biochemistry courses just now…”

“Well, it’s about time I got the Malibu mansion back in order,” Peter raises an eyebrow at the choice of words, as far as he’s aware there isn’t much of a mansion to get in order, considering most of it’s still rumble at the bottom of the ocean, “How would you feel about a few years in the sun, May?” Tony asks with a suave grin.

“Or maybe I’ll go somewhere even further afield?” Peter jumps in before May can respond, “Like Oxford?”

“I always wanted to see England,” May sighs wistfully.

“Nevermind,” he cries with fond frustration, “Maybe I don’t want to go to… college…” the humour in his voice drains away as quickly as the colour from his face.

_I don’t want to go._

His heart remembers the words before his head does, clenching so tight it’s hard to feel anything else. He can hear voices in the distances, desperate, frantic cries; he wonders if it’s the voices of the trillions of souls suddenly being erased just like his. It’s so painful, and cold…

His sight and sound snap back into place at the same time. His face is inches from the hardwood floor, and on one side he can hear May’s frantic pleas, the other, Tony’s forced calm reassurances.

He tries to sit up, to get a look around him because there’s too much noise, like static in his ears, but hands push him down instead, manoeuvring his limbs until he’s flat on his side, a familiar chest pressed against his back, and May’s face, covered with a fragile smile, filling his vision.

“Deep breathes, Pete, that’s it, you’re here, with us, in the Avengers Compound. It’s the 9th of October, and we’re here for you, me and Tony, and Pepper too, she’s here as well. Are you here with us, Pete?”

He nods, taking a deep, shuddering gasp of air, then another until he can match the inhale/exhale pattern Tony builds with him.

“Do you want to go to bed, Pete?” Tony asks, and it’s incredibly reassuring feeling the way his goatee brushes against the back of his neck as he speaks.

Peter nods, “Only if you’ll stay though,” he pleads.

There’s zero hesitation in their voices as they agree, raising him carefully into a seated position, and then to his feet, ever so slowly.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Tony,” Pepper whispers before starting towards the door.

“No,” Peter whimpers, “All three of you. Can all three of you stay?”

The surprised look on her face at the request reminds him that he doesn’t actually know _this_ Pepper Potts, and she certainly doesn’t know him and for a moment he worries he’s overstepped his bounds.

Then she smiles softly and nods, reaching out slowly stroke a hand down his cheek, “Sure thing, sweetheart.”

They curl up in Tony’s bed, it’s the largest by far, ten minutes later; Pepper, Tony, Peter, then May, all in old t-shirts and sweats.

“You get to know Pep well in the next few months then Pete?” Tony asks, breaking the silence. Peter doesn’t mind, he’s not exactly tired since it’s barely gone nine, but basking in the warmth the three adults generate is soothing for his damaged heart.

“Of course, hard not to when the two of you are-” he cuts himself off, eyes widening before a startled chuckle falls past his lips at the realisation of what he’d unknowingly changed.

“The two of us are…?” Tony prompts.

“You know, first time around, I thought yesterday was a test,” Peter admits, in what appears to be a non-sequitur. “I thought you were lying about the reporters and wanted to see if I’d learned anything from the whole series of events… so I said no to joining the Avengers.”

Pepper hisses angrily, like an enraged possum, “Tony…”

The man tries to shift slightly away from her, but there’s no more space between Pepper and Peter for him to move into, and instead he quails, shrinking in on himself, “It didn’t happen Pep, you can’t blame me for that!”

“I went home, and I didn’t even realise until now… but that night the news was going wild because at a press conference… Tony Stark had proposed to Pepper Potts.”

There’s a long, heavy silence before May let’s out a single snicker and the damn breaks.

“He did _what_?!” Pepper asks, so silently he can’t tell if she’s mad or just shocked.

“He, um, proposed to you. You said yes. I guess you must have had to come up with something to cover for me?”

Despite the darkness of the room, Peter can see the wide-eyed terror on Tony’s face, not daring to shift so much as an inch with Pepper behind him, possibly preparing to tear him limb from limb.

A gentle hand reaches over Tony’s side to interlace with his hand, and there’s the softest sound of lips against skin before she speaks, “We’ll talk about this in the morning, ok?”

Tony still looks slightly nauseated, but his fingers grip tighter to hers, “Ok,” he whispers, “Let’s all get some sleep.”

If he sounds like he’s a bit more eager for the morning to arrive than before, then it’s probably just Peter’s imagination as they all settle down again.

It’s strange, because after another panic attack, Peter feels weak and helpless, haunted by the memory of what happened; what could still happen, but at the same time he feels incredibly strong and safe, surrounded by people he trusts so completely. It makes him think that maybe May is right, they will find a way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please take a moment of your day to appreciate familial, non-sexual, snuggling as a form of support because it is beautiful.
> 
> I don't actually at all understand how either Doctor Strange's magic, or some of the stones work, so I'll be very footloose and fancy free with them in this fic haha.
> 
> Also I apparently forgot completely to mention that I've messed with the timeline. Official there's a year and a half between Homecoming and IW, I just cut a year out of that cause I'm already worried six months is too long so hey, oh well!


	13. Breathe, then Have Faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter wants to barf.  
> Tony does not want this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while, too busy. Also it was written in pieces so if it's not as coherent as other chapters... ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> Thank you eternally for all the comments, you guys are so kind and supportive, I hope you aren't getting bored of this fic yet!!

The bed is cold and empty by the time Peter wakes up the next morning, but the warmth that filled him the previous night, falling asleep surrounded by people he loves, is still there and he’s content to stay wrapped up in the incredibly soft bedsheets for as long as possible.

He lays in a blissful half-sleep for at least twenty minutes before he hears footsteps approaching, then feels a change in the air pressure as the door slides silently open.

“Lazy teenagers,” Tony mutters under his breath before disappearing into his own walk in closet for a few minutes. There’s the ruffling of clothes, then he reappears and seconds later a bundle of clothes collides with Peter’s face.

“I could have caught that if I wanted to,” he grumbles, the words half swallowed by his pillow.

“Whatever you say, kiddo. Hurry up and get dressed before Rhodey eats all the waffles,” he calls as he disappears back through the doorway.

Peter pushes himself upright with a grumble, the promise of food just edging out the desire to laze in the incredibly comfortable bed for as long as possible.

He’s already in the clothes before he glances in mirror to see the words ‘I am Iron Man’ emblazoned in red and gold glitter across the chest. Still, it’s better than more Hello Kitty clothes, though Peter doesn’t imagine Mr Stark has many of those in his own closet.

It gets a few chuckles as he appears in the kitchen, and May pets his hand when he takes the seat beside her, “I’ll stop by the apartment today and actually pick up enough clothes if we’re going to be staying here for a while, let me know if there’s anything in particular you want me to bring, ok?”

He nods, and would have offered a response if a plate of chocolate banana waffles hadn’t been put down in front of him just as she asked.

The others at the table; Tony, May, Rhodey, Darcy and Hope, must have already eaten, as they sit around with coffee while he eats. He quickly lures Hope into explaining some of the science behind the Ant-Man suit while he demolishes eight waffles, fitting questions in around mouthfuls.

He’s just about finished when Tony calls for attention, “If everyone’s ready, let’s mosey to the meeting room. Vision got in late last night, so it’d be good to get his thoughts and try to settle on our next steps before some people head out at lunch today.”

There’s a round of nods, and a few minutes for people to refill their coffees (Aunt May leads him pointedly away from the machine and to the carton of orange juice in the fridge) before they all troop through to the usual meeting room. May gives him a peck on the forehead as she heads out with Happy to head back to New York City for the day.

Tony waits as they say quick goodbyes before leading him to the room, with a short rundown that both Hope and Maria will be leaving midday to brief their respective people.

Those who hadn’t been in the dining area were already waiting in the room; Jane, Shuri and Maria with information floating around via the holographic display on the table, and T’Challa with his own appearing from the bead of a bracelet and clearly finishing up a conversation in Xhosan. Doctor Strange is, surprisingly, making pleasant conversation with Vision at the furthest end of the table.

Peter’s quicker to realise that everyone turns to him once they’re seated, he’s still getting used to this whole ‘being in charge’ thing.

“Ok, so before we get to Vision, nice to see you again, by the way, did anyone have any breakthroughs during the night? Or any new information they’d like to share with the class?” he tries to look around the room evenly but can’t help the way his eyes linger longest on Shuri and then Tony, who both stay disappointingly silent until T’Challa clears his throat.

“I just received word from my mother, the exiled Avengers have been spotted perhaps an hour from the city; I’ve sent several of the Dora Milaje to escort them in, so they should be available for a video conference soon enough.”

“Tell them to call 8pm, our time,” Tony insists immediately.

“That will be early morning in Wakanda, I’m sure they’ll be tired, is there no way-”

“They can wait up, they’re big boys and girls,” Tony says, his voice bordering on snappish, a clear sign he is still not quite as peace with the idea of suddenly working with the other Avengers again. “Besides, Pete’s in charge and he has other, important things to do this afternoon.”

“I do?” Peter asks bemusedly, sitting up straighter in surprise.

“You do,” Tony confirms but no further information is forthcoming.

“Oh, ok then.”

T’Challa gives Tony a long, piercing look before eventually nodding and uses his swanky bracelet computer thing, that Peter is definitely going to get his hands on, to send that information back.

“Anyone else have anything they want to say?” frustratingly, no-one else steps forward, so he offers his own, “I had a thought last night actually. I know it’s hard for me to really explain just how strong Thanos was, and I definitely can’t tell you about how he fights beyond it mostly involved being thrown around like a bouncy ball, but I was thinking about this last night and I decided… I could barf.”

There’s a round of uncertain glances and confused blinking at his declaration, before Tony sits up with sudden understanding, “B.A.R.F.?” he asks, worriedly.

“Yeah, B.A.R.F.” Peter confirms with a serious nod to him.

“Uh… there’s a trash can over here,” Rhodey offers, pointing just behind him.

“I believe they are referring to Mr Stark’s Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing system, also known as B.A.R.F., which makes it possible to project and alter a person’s memories to aid in the healing of traumatic events,” Vision explains to the room as Mr Stark is too busy staring intently into Peter’s eyes, as if to burn right through to his hippocampus to prevent the B.A.R.F. implant from working.

“And it’s called B.A.R.F.?” Shuri asks delightedly, but that doesn’t lighten Tony’s mood in the slightest.

“Yes, and as Vision so kindly pointed out, I created that system to help people deal with traumatic memories, not just to allow them to be relived for no reason!”

“It’s not for no reason, Mr Stark,” Peter cries, “Without knowing just how capable Thanos is, I can’t be certain that everyone is taking this as seriously as we need to. We can’t fail again, we just… can’t…” he trails off and looking down to the table, away from his mentor. His fists are clenches so tight he can feel his nails biting into the skin of his palm. “Besides, over half of our fighters aren’t here, we need something for them to be working on while us nerds do the science.”

The table is so silent Peter can hear the sound of someone, probably Pepper, tapping away at a computer several floors away. Everyone except Peter is looking to Tony, waiting for his response.

“We’ll talk about this later,” is all he says in the end, and Peter nods, filling in the unspoken ‘Privately,’ that everyone catches.

The whole discussion reminds Peter too much of how he’d felt… technically a few days ago, in this timeline at least, when Mr Stark had berated him after the ferry incident, but this time at least he hasn’t done anything wrong, and he’s determined to stick to his plan no matter what.

It still takes him a moment, and a deep breath, to push it all aside and focus on the meeting.

“Alright, so, back to actually planning how to defeat this giant ballsack.”

Maria, in contrast to her usual composure, spits her coffee across the table.

“Ah, sorry, I forgot none of you know what he looks like, it’ll make sense eventually, I promise,” Peter adds with an awkward chuckle as Darcy pulls a pack of tissues to clean up the mess. “ _Anyway_ , Vision, think the Mind Stone could be any use in stopping Thanos?”

“I am afraid I have to confess I am still unaware of the exact properties and functions of the stone, Mr Parker. Clearly inferences can be made that there is a link between my heightened intellect and the stone, but I’m afraid how exactly the relationship between myself and the stone works is unknown,” he says apologetically. “We do, however, have instances of the stone’s use prior to my creation, via the Sceptre; for example, the brainwashing of Hawkeye and several key scientists including Dr Selvig, during the Chitauri invasion. Or H.Y.D.R.A.’s experiments to artificially create super-powered individuals, such as Wan – I mean, Miss Maximoff.”

It’s just as well his face is already red; it’s pretty adorable.

“So… in terms of kicking Thanos’ titan ass back to a galaxy far, far away?” Peter asks, hopefully.

“To speak in a similar tongue, my forehead can go ‘Pew-pew’; that's as much as I can offer just now,” he replies flatly, and Peter can’t help but snicker at his arid wit, despite the less than ideal answer.

“What about contacting Thor, Dr Banner or the Guardians, would it be possible to send a psychic message to their brains?”

The look on Vision’s face and small shake of the head is answer enough, but he kindly doesn’t deny it outright, “I can try.”

It’s an almighty effort to stay silent and nod instead of quoting Yoda in return.

 

With Vision only a fraction more helpful that the rest of them had managed to be so far, the mood is somber as the group breaks for lunch and say goodbye to Maria and Hope as they head back to the airport with the promise to return in a few days after consulting with their own people on the topic too.

Peter tries to slink down to the lab quietly once he’s finished eating, but Tony’s hand wraps around his elbow before he can make it past the door, pulling him in the opposite direction.

“I told you, you have important things to do this afternoon,” Tony chides as they enter the elevator and start to descend.

“That was real?” Peter asks, taken by surprise, honestly having thought Tony was just delaying having to speak to Cap as much as possible. “Are we going to meet the President?” he asks in a hushed voice.

Tony gives him such a wide eyed look for a second Peter thinks he might have actually guessed right, until Tony cracks up so hard he has to lean against the wall of the elevator to stay upright.

“N-no,” he wheezes, finally starting to get his amusement under control, “We’re going somewhere much cooler than the White House.”

An unrepentant red and gold car, surprisingly spacious despite the clearly ridiculous cost of it, pulls up beside the elevator as they exit, controlled by F.R.I.D.A.Y., if her snarky, “Here’s your ego car, boss,” was any indication.

Peter’s strapped into the passenger seat, mouth agape at just how freaking cool the car is on the inside too, before he even remembers he doesn’t know where they’re going.

“So, uh, where we going Mr Stark?”

“It’s Tony, remember that kid, we’ve reached hugging, we can manage first names. Now, you want to B.A.R.F.? Really need to think of a better name for it… but are you sure? It’s not going to help you get past what happened if you’re just going to relive it all.”

“I’m sure Mr- Tony. What… what happened at the end, that’s not something I’m ever going to forget. I’ve already agreed to get therapy for it, I want to, but do you know what will help more than anything else?” he looks to Tony earnestly, taking in his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, “making damn sure it never happens again, and B.A.R.F. will help with that because right now nobody at that table except you 100% believes what I’m saying and they need to.”

Tony looks exhausted, almost as tired and despairing as he had when Peter revealed himself on the flying doughnut ship to Titan, already too far from Earth to return. A sharp guilt stabs through his stomach, knowing the newest wrinkles to line Tony’s face have been caused by him, and he’s still causing more grief.

The car is silent as Tony chews the inside of his lip and Peter morosely watches the scenery fly by. They’re reaching the outskirts of the city when the conversation finally starts again.

“Fine,” Tony bites out, running a hand frantically through his hair as if to tear it out in frustration, “You can use B.A.R.F. as long as you follow the rules. Number one,” he ploughs straight on, barely giving Peter the time to nod in agreement, “You will only use it once for this purpose, F.R.I.D.A.Y. can record the memories to show to anyone who needs to see them later. Number two, Dr Moors, the psychiatrist you’ll be talking to, must be here when you do it and you’ll have a session with her immediately after, for as long as you need. And number three, you decide who is in the room with you; Dr Moors is non-negotiable but other than that, you can decide, but you’re not reliving them in front of the whole team; if you’re recording them for the people who aren’t here, they can make do with the recordings too. That’s the deal, those are the terms and conditions, subject to change at any time, do you agree?”

“Yes,” Peter promises immediately, relaxing bonelessly into the seat, breathing a sigh of relief at Tony’s acceptance. “Thank you, Tony, I promise it’ll help.”

He only gets a sharp nod in response, but even as they settle back into silence, it’s much more comfortable than the previous one had been.

The drive through the city is familiar, it feels like years since he’s been there, but even in his own timeline it’s only been about three days, the same as any long weekend at the Compound, tinkering with the suit with Tony and then pestering Happy as they drive back to the city again.

Actually… the drive is _very_ familiar.

“Where did you say we were going?” Peter asks, a slight amount of dread starting to build in his gut.

“I didn’t,” Tony smirks, “But I, most unfortunately, agreed to allow a second annoyingly little brat,” he says the words almost fondly, “to run around my house and we both needed some air anyway, so I figured we could go collect your ‘guy in the chair’.”

“Ned?” Peter asks, and he’s excited, really, but he can’t hide the nerves in his voice, “I – uh, I didn’t know you knew his address, Mr Stark…”

“I don’t.”

Peter gulps, looking back out the front of the car at the same streets Happy always takes to drive him to and from school.

“Do we really have to go there, Tony?” he pleads, “I mean, have you really thought about this? I just outted myself as Spider-Man, I was kinda planning to give them, oh, maybe a year or two to calm down about it, then swoop through for graduation and never be seen again?”

Tony laughs, and the lingering threads of their disagreement are swept from the air between them.

“Trust me on this one, Pete, I know what I’m doing,” Tony promises.

Peter sighs in resignation, slumping down in the seat, “I have a bad feeling about this,” he mutters.

Tony just laughs so more, “I find your lack of faith disturbing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Comments give me life and happiness!


	14. Breathe, then Confront

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunions and farewells.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't say enough how amazing you guys all are! I swear your comments make me so happy. Somehow most of you have picked up on how anxious I am about everything and you say the nicest things to calm me down and reassure me this story isn't complete garbage! Without all your super supportive comments I don't think we would have got this far.
> 
> Thank you all <3
> 
> Not sure how well this chapter went cause I know everyone loves the big confrontation scenes after identity reveals, and I wanted to keep it as realistic as possible, but idk how well it went... :S   
> Please let me know what you thought!!

Tony parks the car directly outside the gates of the school, illegally, Peter would like to point out, at 2.30pm, giving them a whole 15 minutes to sit in an awkward silence that does nothing for Peter’s rising anxiety.

“I don’t think I can do this, Mr Stark,” he says eventually, breaking the silence and reverting back to ‘Mr Stark’ instead of ‘Tony’ because of his nerves. “Can we just go back to the-”

“Hey, hey, hey, kid, calm down, take deep breaths ok? We don’t need any panic attacks, everything’s fine.” Tony twists in his seat, placing a hand on Peter’s knee while the other carefully removes the hand buried in his hair and gives it a gentle squeeze.

“I wish I could hide you from the world and keep you safe, but that’s not how this works, and I don’t think it’s how you would want it to work either; you’ve got a job to do, and the Peter Parker I know wouldn’t let anything stand in the way of him helping others, even when a grumpy old guy takes away his super suit, right?”

Peter lets out a slightly strangled laugh and gives the hand a small squeeze back, “You’re not old, Mr Stark.”

“I feel it when you call me that, it’s Tony remember. For a genius kid you’re sure bad at remembering simple facts,” he teases. “But listen, I know you didn’t exactly plan to tell the world who you are, you’d just gone through something worse than I can imagine, and your head wasn’t in the right place when you stood in front of all those reporters; I shouldn’t have let you go into that room at all the moment I realised something was wrong.”

Peter shakes his head to refute Tony’s guilt but the billionaire ploughs on regardless, “You didn’t plan to do it but you did and now you have to deal with the consequences of that. It was the same for me when I announced that I’m Iron Man. The press is relentless, Peter, and as much as it’d be nice to just hide away from it all, and pretend you’re still the same ordinary kid, that’s not possible anymore. I really wish it was,” he laments bitterly on Peter’s behalf. “You need to build your own identity, decide what you want the world to see of you, and hide anything you don’t behind so many walls and locks that they’ll never find it, otherwise they’ll tear through you and pick out all the worst parts of you to show the world. Each mistake you make is one hundred times more interesting to the world than the things you do right.”

There’s a soul-wrenching amount of first-hand experience in Tony’s words, that makes Peter want to climb to the top of the tallest building in the city, coincidentally Avengers Tower, and scream for the whole world to hear just how he feels about Tony Stark.

“But not you Peter,” he says, finally turning his gaze away from a distant, hazy stare through the window to look at Peter with a rueful smile, “you’re going to be better. You’re still young, you make mistakes and are too hot-headed, but you’re already so much better than any of us and I think the world will see that too.”

Peter’s eyes get a little moist, there must be something in the air because Tony’s clearing his throat and sniffling too.

“Anyway, kid, Pete; I know there’s a lot going on right now and you’ve got the mother of all deadlines hanging over your head, but we’re going to beat Thanos into the dirt, so try to think about what you want to do after that’s all over too. And for now, that involves sitting on a custom two million dollar car with undoubtedly the coolest guy in the world, and showing off to your classmates. Get through this just now and we can talk to May about a next step later, ok?”

Peter nods and manages to choke out a breathless “Ok” in response. Even in six months time, growing closer to Tony after the incident with the Vulture, he’d never been quite so forth-coming and open as he is now and Peter can’t help but wonder how things have changed so much, so quickly.

“Get over here Pete, this is definitely a hug moment,” Tony declares with only the slightest of wobbles in his voice as he opens his arms in offering.

For someone who shies away from physical contact at every opportunity, Tony really does give the best hugs. Or maybe that’s just because, after dying in his arms and having them wrapped around him so many times since waking up again, Peter’s come to think of a Tony Hug as synonymous with comfort and warmth, especially the hugs that last several minutes like this one does.

Eventually he pulls back, reluctantly, and offers Tony a confident, determined smile, “Ok Tony, I’ll do my best.”

“That’s the spirit, now grab a pair of sunglasses out of the dash and let’s get this show on the road, I think I just used up my schmoop allowance for the year,” he grumbles while Peter slips a pair of Tony’s custom coloured shades on.

“Thanks Tony,” Peter says softly, and he’s not talking about the sunglasses.

Tony brushes a few pieces of hair back from his face, then pulls him into a super-fast hug, barely even holding Peter before letting him go and pushing his door open.

Neither of them say anything about the slight press of lips into his hair, or the whispered ‘Any time, kiddo’, but there’s nothing that really needs to be said.

 

“Are you sure about waiting right here, Tony?” Peter asks when the bell rings, signalling the imminent exodus of sweaty teenagers from the building, “Not that I’m trying to get out of this, it’s just there’s a _lot_ of kids and-”

 “Are you embarrassed by me, Petey?” he gasps, outrageously, “Isn’t this every geek’s fantasy? Turning up to school with Iron Man beside you?”

“Actually, my fantasies usually involve saving Princess Leia and then getting drinks together while admiring the skyline of Coruscant” he admits unabashedly while reluctantly taking a seat carefully on the hood of the car and waiting for the first students to emerge.

“Wow, sometimes it still amazes me how much of a nerd you are; pass me your phone, you’d better not have got any scratches on it.” Peter blinks, taken off guard by the sudden change in direction of the conversation while Tony makes grabby hands until the red and blue phone is dropped into them.

“I think you’ll find that Starkphones are scratch resistant to the point you might as well call it scratch-proof. It’s not a good sign if you can’t even remember how your own inventions work, sir.”

The snark earns him a cuff to the ear with the hand not currently tapping away at the phone’s screen.

“You do remember Karen is on there, right?” Peter asks.

“But that would ruin the surprise, Peter,” the A.I. answers before Mr Stark can respond and instead he just nods in agreement.

“Here you go, done now anyway,” he hands the phone back and Peter looks down at it to see… instagram? “Spider-Man’s very own, verified, account. Up to you whether you use it, but since you had to make all your social media private, I thought you might want one where you can share things with the public. Don’t worry, I already had you follow my Iron Man account when I made it for you, and you’ll be honoured to know I was your first follower in return, so you’d better not post dumb shit all the time…”

Peter hums in agreement, already distracted by reading the very-Tony profile, “This is cool Tony, it’ll be cool to be able to actually interact with people now the, uh, spider’s out of the suit, so to speak…”

“Exactly. Any idea what you want your first post to be?” he asks, scooting closer across the hood.

“Maybe a picture of the city from above?” Peter suggests, struggling to keep a straight face, “It’s be cool to show everyone the way I see New York, plus I’ve been working on my photography, so I’ve got a lot of good ones! Oh, or maybe the flowers Ms Potts left in the kitchen this morning, they were incredible, do you think they’ll-”

Peter can hear the sound of hundreds of students starting to move through the corridors as Tony throws an arm around his neck to pull him in for a noogie, “Just hurry up and take the selfie before I tell Pep that you’re still calling her Ms Potts when she’s not around!”

He’s lining up the picture when the first students start tumbling through the doors, and he can’t help glance over at their startled, awe-struck faces until Mr Stark snaps his fingers, drawing his focus back.

It’s a ridiculously cool photo in the end, both of them in matching shades and, at Mr Stark’s prompting, making his signature web-shooter hand gesture at the camera. It’s almost easy to ignore the way the students are creeping closer as he argues with Tony over which filter to use (except it’s not easy and he feels a bit queasy when he catches their awe-struck expressions from the corner of his eye).

The students stop in a semi-circle a few meters from the car, jostling and shoving against each other to get a better look, already most of them with their phones in hand. Peter tries to ignore the squeaks of girls daring each other to go talk to him, or the repeated murmurs of “Dude that’s really Tony fucking Stark,” instead he keeps staring straight at the school door, mentally praying that Ned will appear the next time it opens.

“Relax a bit Pete,” Tony leans close to whisper in his ear, “you look like Rhodey after Bruce accidentally spoiled Star Wars for Steve.”

Peter turns to face him, gasping in horror, “He didn’t! Why would – How could he?”

Tony laughs, “You’re as bad as Rhodey was. It was an accident, Bruce felt awful and they tried to play it off as a joke but it was a bit too late by then.”

Someone steps forward from the crowd, drawing his attention immediately back and sending an immediate hush over the students grappling to see to the front of the crowd.

“Peter, dude…” Abe says, mouth hanging slightly open as he shakes his head in awed disbelief, “That was… that was _you_ in D.C.? You climbed the fucking Washington Monument, then _jumped off_! I can’t even – that’s crazy, you’re fucking crazy dude!” He looks completely blown away by the revelation despite having a few days to come to terms with it. He slowly offers his hand, fingers pointed up, for Peter to clasp, and quickly pulls him into a hug.

“Sorry for being mad about decathlon,” Abe murmurs into the small space between them and Peter gives him a few thumps on the back.

“No problem, Abe, can’t be a superhero if I don’t even save my friends.”

It’s a nice moment, even when Abe pulls back, his eyes a bit teary.

So, of course, that’s when Flash arrives.

“Well if it isn’t Penis Parker,” he drawls loudly, the crowd parting for him to swagger through with a confident smirk. Peter has spent enough time with Flash’s ego to notice immediately that his confident aura is all for show; his eyes are wide and fingers clenched tightly around the straps of his backpack. He already looks like he’s regretting stepping forward and drawing attention to himself, but he wouldn’t be Flash if he didn’t.

“Eugene,” Peter replies sardonically, but his response is drowned out by a much louder, angrier one.

“Excuse me?” Tony calls, springing off the hood of the car and to his feet like a lion preparing to defend its pride, “What did you just call him?”

 The fake confidence drains from Flash’s whole body, taking the blood from his face at the same time. He takes a small step back but the crowd behind him has already closed ranks, leaving him stuck between a wall and an angry Tony Stark.

“It’s fine, Tony, it’s nothing,” Peter says, trying to calm his mentor down, but if anything it just makes the situation worse.

“What he just said was _not_ nothing, Pete. You don’t deserve that. You literally spend your life helping anyone you can, no matter what it takes, and then have to come here and listen to spoilt little kids calling you stupid juvenile names like that? You don’t deserve that.”

Peter should do more, try to reign Tony in before he can continue, but there’s something awe-inspiring about Tony protecting him in front of a crowd of Peter’s classmates, and the sheer amount of anger he draws on to do so.

He turns back to Flash before Peter can even start to respond to his declarations.

“You know I like jokes, Eugene, I think I’m a pretty funny guy. But that wasn’t funny, it was just mean.”

Flash actually whimpers, taking a step backwards into the wall of people when Tony stalks closer even though there’s no give for him to disappear into. “I’m sorry sir, I didn’t mean anything, it was just a…” he trails off, because Tony has already disavowed the taunt as being a joke. “I respect Spider-Man so much, Mr Stark, I swear. He saved my life in D.C., if he hadn’t been there I would have-”

He let’s out a startled squeal when Tony hooks an arm around his shoulders, pulling him away from the other students none-too-gently. “If you respect Spider-Man, then you treat Peter with that same respect; you treat _everyone_ with that respect because that’s what Spider-Man would do.”

Peter tries not to cringe at Tony’s words, but can’t help notice the way Flash, and a fair number of the students watching, stand straighter in response.

Tony drops his voice, leaning into Flash’s ear, his body language clearly threatening but his words, that only Peter will hear, are the opposite.

“You’re still young, kid, but it’s time to grow up. If you want to be like Spider-Man, then start trying. You remind me of myself, and that is _not_ a good thing just now. Before I became Iron Man, I was arrogant, selfish and not in the least bit ashamed of that. Picking on the smaller people might make you feel bigger just now, but eventually there’ll be a time when you’ll need allies, or even friends, and you might not have anyone there to help you. Or, you know, that little guy you pick on might not stay so little, you get me?”

“Yes Mr Stark,” Flash swears before he even finishes the question, and Tony gives him two pats on the back before pushing him back towards the crowd.

“But Eugene,” he calls just before the teen finally manages to disappear again, waiting until he anxiously meets his eyes, before saying, “If I hear you calling my kid any more dumb names, we’re going to have a real disagreement, and neither of us want that.”

What happens next takes Peter by surprise. Flash actually straightens, shoulders pulling back and chin tilting up again, “You won’t, Mr Stark.”

Tony nods and that should be the end of it.

Except maybe Flash is already taking the lesson to heart because he turns around again, and strides over to face Peter with a determined expression.

“Peter. Thank you for saving me in D.C., I-” he pauses and gulps, “I didn’t deserve it, I was a dick that whole trip and way before that too. I still don’t think you should be on the decathlon team,” Peter snorts in reluctant amusement, “but I guess I might have been wrong about other things…”

It’s not a proper apology, but for Flash it’s more than he ever expected so Peter nods in acceptance, “Thanks Flash. You can keep your spot on the team for now though, I’m not going to be around for a while, so someone needs to keep my seat warm, even if you can’t actually answer any of the questions.”

He expects the taunt to get a rise from the other teen, but instead he’s stuck on the first part of the sentence, “You’re leaving decathlon?”

“I’m leaving _school_ , Flash,” he says bluntly, before adding, “Just temporarily, I mean,” when the whole crowd inhales sharply with shock. “There are just some… you know, more important things to deal with just now. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Oh,” Flash says, blankly, “Better be back soon, would be pretty lame for Spider Man to have to retake a year because he missed too many classes.”

Peter laughs, “Oh I wouldn’t worry, Tony’s going to be my science teacher, maybe Jane Foster too, and Miss Potts is hiring some tutors for the other classes, I’d be more worried about me skipping a grade when I get back.”

In a school of science nerds, the name Jane Foster is almost as recognisable as Tony’s, and Peter won’t deny the smug satisfaction that fills him at the envious expressions on most of the watching faces.

The moment might have continued if something much more important hadn’t happened. From the very back of the crowd, now filling the whole sidewalk and stairs up to the school, someone yells.

“Peter!”

He’d recognise that voice anywhere, and it takes him less than a second to find Ned in the crowd, where he’s already pushing his way through to reach the front. The students between them part like the red sea, and for a second Ned freezes, eyes wide with awe as he takes in the watching students lining the space, and Peter and Tony lounging around at the front atop a several million dollar car.

It’s everything Ned ever dreamed of happening and more when he had begged Peter to let him tell everyone.

So, he takes a moment, straightens his shirt, and strides confidently between the watching kids, because who’s the coolest kid now, huh? He doesn’t even need the hat.

“Hey Peter,” he says when he reaches the front, trying not to show just how freaking awesome this is.

Peter just laughs, offering his hand for their signature shake and yeah, he can totally do this, just play it cool, don’t show how –

“Wow that was more embarrassing than the time Steve tried to use slang,” Tony mocks from where he’s leaning against his car and yeah, no, Ned can’t hold it in any longer.

“Oh my god Peter it’s Tony Stark, why didn’t you tell me Mr Stark was going to come today, why didn’t you tell me you were either actually but that’s less important, it’s Iron Man, Peter, _Iron Man_ , this is like the best moment of my life I think I might die. Is he going to drive us back to the compound? Am I actually going to sit in a car with Iron Man for more than an hour and breath the same air as him. I can’t believe you told him I messed with your suit though, that’s so not cool, but also I messed with something Tony Stark himself made like wow can I put that on my CV cause that’s just-”

“God, you’re such a nerd, I’m not sure I even want to sit in the same car as you, what if it’s contagious?”

Peter brightens even more, turning to the second figure to slink into the group, “MJ,” he breathes, unable to even try to hide his happiness at the sight of her; they might not be close friends yet, but he knows they will be soon.

“Hey, loser, I’m coming along too since you forgot to ask me on the phone,” she opens the backseat of the car and slings a bag in without waiting for an invitation, “I cancelled decathlon for this, so it’d better be worth my time, now hurry up, all the gawking is pissing me off.”

She disappears into the back seat before she even finishes speaking, snapping the door closed to cut off any attempt to tell her otherwise.

“Wow, she’s a firecracker alright, like Pepper but full of all that fun adolescent rage,” Tony says with a whistle.

The car window winds down just far enough for MJ to get a hand out, middle finger raised in salute, and Peter is a bit worried when Tony just laughs with delight.

“Ok then, you heard the lady. If that’s all, let’s get moving. Time is money. Get in the car Ted.”

“It’s Ned,” Peter corrects immediately but Ned’s eyes are still glassy with awe, a goofy smile on his face.

“You can call me whatever you want, sir,” he says vacantly.

Tony cringes, “Ned was it then? Let’s not make things weird, alright?”

Peter pinches him when he just nods in response, making Ned startle and yelp.

“Get in the card, Ned. And try to be cool, ok? He’ll be there the whole weekend, try not to freak out the whole time.”

“No promises Peter. Nice shirt by the way.”

Peter looks down at the shirt, blinking in surprise at the ‘I am Iron Man’ still emblazoned across his chest and turns to Tony in betrayal, “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”

Tony shrugs, unrepentantly as he opens the driver door, “It looks good on you, kid. Keep it, I’ve got a whole line of them.”

Peter sighs, turns once more to look back at Midtown and the watching students, and awkwardly raises a hand in farewell before disappearing behind the tinted windows of Tony’s Audi to the sound of hundreds of kids shouting their goodbyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I might have adjusted homecoming a bit because I don't think Peter actually rescued Flash from the elevator, I think he was already out when Peter burst in, but for the sake of this story, he wasn't. I don't normally like changing small things just to suit my needs when I should work around them, but I already wrote it before remembering so... also lent a friend my dvd so can't check...
> 
> Also, the part about Bruce spoiling Star Wars is based on the interview of Mark Ruffalo and Don Cheadle from a year ago in which Mark says that everyone dies in infinity war, and Don has the most horrified reaction and Mark is absolutely horrified. It's both hilarious, since nobody took it seriously, and dreadful watching them both just be like 'there is no way to fix this' so go watch it if you haven't yet.
> 
> (And finally just the clarify, I like SW but I'm not absolutely huge on it, so all my SW references are firstly, just to lighten the chapter when it's a bit serious (such was the case last chapter) and because Peter is a huge nerd.)


	15. Breathe, then Solve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter takes a step forwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare for hand-wavy science!   
> I think my idea is plausible in terms of canon, but if not please just go with it...  
> Sorry this chapter took longer, I left it at work haha ^^; I've been slowing down a bit... a lot, with writing because I've been feeling a lot more exhausted of late but I hope I can get a lot done this weekend!! Sorry about all the delays but hope this makes up for it! Let me know what you think! ^w^

If Peter didn’t love the two of them so much just as they are, he’d wish they could balance each other out; Ned freaked out the moment the compound came into sight, bordering on hysterical as Tony pulls into the garage and leads them to the lift (putting a bit of distance between himself and the three teens); MJ on the other hand, looks about as disinterested as physically possible while maintaining her status as a sentient being.

They settle in together in one of the common areas, and Tony points them towards a poorly wrapped box on the table while he goes to fetch drinks.

He’s pouring juice for the three of them and a coffee for himself when the excited screams start, he really needs to stop spoiling the kid so much…

“Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony – Is this real?” the kid comes barrelling into the kitchen, skidding across the panelled flooring straight into the counter beside Tony, jostling the glasses but not enough for them to spill. “Did you get an Avengers Tower lego set? I didn’t know they even made this oh my god this is better than the Death Star!”

“Should keep you occupied for a few hours then while I disappear down into the lab?” Peter nods emphatically. “Great, I think I’ve exhausted my dealing with teenagers meter, need a bit of quiet time to recharge.”

Peter’s excitement dies enough to give him a disgustingly mature look of concern, but like thankful concern, appreciation that makes Tony’s stomach flip-flop uncomfortably and his feet shift as if to escape as quickly as possible. (There’s also a strange sort of warmth spreading through his veins, he can’t even remember the last time someone was so thankful for something he did…)

“You’ll be ok?” Peter asks and god damn those big round bambi eyes.

He reaches out to ruffle Peter’s hair, “I’ll be fine, kiddo, don’t worry about me. If you need anything ask F.R.I.D.A.Y. or have her call me in the lab, ok?” Peter nods but still looks a bit worried, “Just have fun with your nerd friends, ok? I’ll be back up in a few hours and I expect to see a perfect replica of the Tower by then.”

“It’s 9,731 pieces Tony! That’s like, at least a week!”

Tony just raises an expectant eyebrow before scooping his mug up to leave, “Better get started then, and I swear Pete, if I stand on a single piece of lego, we will be having words.”

He drifts out of the room with a lazy wave of a hand over his shoulder and meanders down towards his lab – time to get a B.A.R.F. system set up.

 

He emerges again three hours later to the smell of pizza drifting through the compound. All the pieces he needed were already on hand, waiting to be put back together into the same rig he’d demonstrated at M.I.T. so it had only been an hour or two to assemble it all, the other hour he’d spent actually doing some of the work Pepper had been pleading about for the last week, albeit much less since the whole Peter/Thanos issue had surfaced. Still, it is a bit later than he’d planned, and a bit of mindless signature scrawling had actually been a bit therapeutic when any tinkering he tries to do automatically leads his head back to preparing for the titan’s attack.

There’s eight pizza boxes scattered across the room, in amongst the lego pieces scattered across the floor. There’s a skeleton of the tower starting to grow out of the mess, but right now it looks more like the tower has been destroyed in an attack rather than paused for a dinner break, mid-construction. Would it look like that after Thanos too?

“Hey, Tony, we, um, ordered pizza? There’s still some left if you want some,” Peter offers, and there’s already two empty boxes sitting behind him, the third on its way to empty if the slice he crams into his mouth is any indication.

The group has expanded slightly, now instead of just three teenagers, there’s four, plus one king of Wakanda curled up in an armchair to the edge of the room, scrolling through his phone.

“-would definitely win, hands down!” Shuri is insisting, slamming a hand down on the floor and giving Ned the stink eye across the room as Tony takes a seat on the, mercifully lego-free, couch.

“No way, Darth Vader would just use the force to kill him before he could get anywhere near close enough to use his saiyan powers,” Ned shoots back.

“Goku doesn’t even need to get close, he’d just Kamehameha Vader back into space!” Shuri says and Tony suddenly realises that the two of them are actually serious, like they’re actually having a serious argument about who would win between two fictional characters from different universes all together… He should have stayed in the lab.

“It takes him like half the episode to charge that attack, Vader would have enough time to stroll across the field and slice him into two saiyan pieces with his lightsabre!”

Yeah, definitely should have stayed downstairs. He looks at the three other occupants of the room for help but MJ is immersed in her book and Peter’s focus is swinging between them like Spider-Man webbing down Lexington Avenue, T’Challa glances up to meet his gaze with a consoling look of solidarity before going back to his phone as the argument continues.

“MJ, what do you think?” Shuri finally asks, throwing her hands, and several lego pieces, into the air.

“I think I’d rather join the alt-right than join your debate,” she says dryly, pauses, then mimes vomiting, “I take it back, I think I just made myself sick, I’d rather kill myself than do that but still, the number of fucks I give about Darth Vader and Goku is not even real, it’s imaginary. I give imaginary fucks because I don’t even care enough to give real fucks.”

“Peter?” Ned asks, after a moment’s pause in awe of the wildfire that is MJ.

“Ugh… well you guys have only argued based on their strength and most common techniques, in which case I’d say Darth Vader would win just using the force,” Ned cheers in victory but Peter quickly continues when Shuri levels a poisonous glare at him, “But if Goku could use his other skills, like fusion, and fused with someone else, like… uh…” he stops, eyes frantically scanning the room for inspiration before landing on Tony, “Tony! Like Tony, then he’d have both strength _and_ smarts and could beat anyone!”

“Nice kid, but I ain’t fusing with anyone, why would I when I’m already a perfect specimen.”

He doesn’t appreciate the snorts from Shuri, MJ and even T’Challa, but the smile from Peter and almost obsessive nods from Ned give him a small boost at least.

“So you wouldn’t fuse with anyone, even if you could?” Peter asks curiously.

“Nope,” says Tony, “I’m pretty big on the whole ‘love yourself’ thing so I’m happy as I am. If I want something done I’ll use my brains to do it.”

Peter gives him a look as if to say ‘You don’t love yourself nearly enough’ but maybe Tony’s reading too much into it; then he nods, thoughtfully.

“Which Avenger would _you_ fuse with if you could, Peter?” Ned suddenly asks and everyone in the room turns to listen now.

“Tho- Tony. Definitely Tony, I mean is there anyone cooler than Iron Man?” Peter insists, staring wide eyed around the group.

“Funny cause it sounded like you were going to say Thor,” MJ says, apparently incapable of showing mercy.

Tony gives Peter the most disappointed look he can manage and Peter wilts.

“Well ok, either Thor or Tony, they’re both cool like if I could be as smart as Iron Man and as cool that’d be awesome, but I mean, Thor does control lighting and is, like, a _god_. Doctor Strange would be pretty cool too though, he’s a bit strange, obviously, but he can do actual magic...”

“It’s not magic!” Tony and Shuri both insist.

“-but obviously my first choice is Tony, definitely.”

If Tony was a stronger person he’d continue looking disappointed at the kid’s poor recovery, but instead he can’t help laughing at him tripping over himself, digging his hole deeper with each word.

“Ok so Thor or Doctor Strange? What about you, brother?” Shuri asks, ignoring Peter’s pitiful whines of ‘I said Tony!’

T’Challa lowers his phone to his lap, holding the room’s attention in a deliberate pause, before responding “Falcon. I would enjoy experiencing flight the way he does.”

Shuri glows at the admission, “I can do that, brother. It’s top of my list for when we return to Wakanda!”

T’Challa looks like he regrets allowing himself to be lured into the conversation but it’s too late to change his answer as Shuri is already hunched over, making notes into her own tablet.

“Ok but imagine if Captain America and Thor merged? That’d be like the strongest hero ever, right?” Ned asks, apparently enjoying the topic too much to let it die.

“Strong but not as smart as like Tony and Vision,” Peter argues cause he’s a sucker for superhero discussion.

“T’Challa and Iron Man,” Shuri demands, and there’s a strangely insistent glimmer in her eyes, as if there’s more meaning in her words than the rest of them see. T’Challa shifts nervously in his seat.

“How about Tony and no-one?” Tony suggests again but nobody pays him any mind, too busy arguing over fusion combinations to care.

“Scarlett Witch and the Hulk,” MJ finally offers and everyone pauses to imagine it and shudders with fear.

“That’s… terrifying,” Peter whispers, “but I still think anyone paired with Tony is best I mean he has the arc-”

Shuri cuts him off, already arguing in favour of someone else, but Peter’s mind has drifted, slowly turning to look at Tony. He barely notices the billionaire’s reluctantly bemused expression, or the way he has a tiny smudge of tomato sauce in his goatee.

“We can get to Asgard,” he mutters, but the group is too busy with the heated debate building once more between Shuri and Ned to take notice. He scrambles to his feet, barely feeling the lego bricks that dig into his bare feet as he leaps a couch and darts out of the room.

He jumps the railing to drop down to the ground floor of the facility and darts into the meeting room, completely deaf to the confused shouts behind him.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., bring up pictures of Avengers Tower during the Chitauri invasion,” he orders and pictures from all angles fill the holographic display in an instant, from all levels of the tower. At a glance he sees a younger Tony, the Hulk and Loki, and then the whole group of the original Avengers, but that’s not what he wants. “Just the roof, please, the point from which the portal was opened.”

Most of the images disappear, leaving him with roughly twenty to sort through. He picks out three after a few moments’ consideration.

“Peter! What’s going on?” Tony asks as he darts through the door, T’Challa a second behind him.

Peter’s eyes are too busy flickering over the images, fingers plucking one of them out and enlarging it to get a better look.

“Is this… the Chitauri Invasion?” Tony asks uncertainly, even though the image of a wormhole being opened is unmistakable, especially to the man who flew through it.

“I’ve been so stupid,” Peter berates himself while magnifying the image even further, “I was thinking about each person individually, rather than how we can work together.”

“Slow down there Pete, back it up a sec for the people who-”

“I think we can get to Asgard,” Peter announces, stopping Tony dead in his tracks, and giving the rest of the group pause as they crowd into the room. "It's a bit of a stretch but I think the theory..."

“Ok, how?” Tony asks blankly, as if not daring to get his hopes up.

“The Space Stone manipulates space, but we have someone who’s capable of the exact same thing,” Peter exclaims.

Tony, T’Challa and Shuri, having been at the meeting, share a look, “Pete, Strange already said he can’t open a portal to Asgard, he doesn’t have that sort of power…”

“Neither did the Space Stone,” Peter cries, gesturing wildly to the image of the machine powering the wormhole atop Avengers Tower. “Loki couldn’t open a portal anywhere, he _had_ to take it to New York because it needed an energy source, and we still have that exact same energy source.” He says, pointing to Tony, or more precisely, to the arc reactor embedded in Tony’s chest even though the rest of the room has already turned to look once they put together the pieces. “Unlimited energy, right?” Peter asks rhetorically, “I don’t want to – to overstepped my bounds here, but I think we could almost say that… the arc reactor technology… might as well be a man-made infinity stone, at least in terms of the amount of power it’s able to generate. If Loki were able to use it to boost the Space Stone enough for a portal to outer space, why can’t we use it to power Doctor Strange’s portal?”

The room falls silent with the weight of possibility hanging over them all; each of them runs through the theory for flaws, then again, but without tests and data they can’t really prove or disprove it, and so far it’s still the best idea they’ve come across.

“The wizard said he also needs at least some idea of where he is going,” T’Challa points out before spirits can rise too much.

“I, uh, have a maybe idea for that too,” Peter hedges tentatively, “It’s weaker, I’m not certain about it, but it’s also the best option we’ve got right now so… Doctor Strange said he needs a clear mental image of the place he’s going to, even if he hasn’t been there before, right?” He doesn’t wait for them to respond, pushing forward, “Well we’ve _got_ someone with a clear mental image of Asgard, someone who’s been there before! All we need to do is figure out how to share the memories with Doctor Strange… B.A.R.F. could work but it’s not as immersive, so I was wondering if possibly Vision and the mind stone might be able to do that? I don’t really get how it works, if that’s even possible, but if not, we also have-”

“Wanda,” Tony cuts back in again, his eyes wide and bright, the pupils flickering back and forth from side to side with the speed of his thoughts. “So we jury-rig something like the machine Selvig made, attune it to the magic Doctor Strange does, and give him the destination we need via Foster and wham bam boom, a direct line to Asgard!”

The room stands frozen, brains whirring and hearts pounding with adrenaline.

“Let’s give it a try,” Peter says finally, a confident smirk pulling at his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's opinion - No way DV would win, Goku would zoom over there and just smash him into the ground in an instant. Feel free to sound off in the comments!


	16. Breathe, then Expel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So remember that plot that started progressing last chapter? Yeah, Peter decided to slow things down again this chapter...
> 
> Your comments keep me alive, they're so nice!!! And you might have convinced me that DV would win against Goku, I think that's all anyone said last chapter!!

The night vanishes in a flurry of science, the rest of the team, those that didn’t leave earlier in the day, getting the extremely energetic summary of his idea as they arrive, and from then on, the room descends into alternating periods of thick silence and uncontrolled babble as they bounce ideas off each other so fast they’re flying around the room like bullets. When Doctor Strange portals into the room, he’s almost blown right back through it by the chorus of “No!” “Wait!” “Stop” that fills the room as he starts to close the portal.

Peter gently pulls him out of the way as Tony orders, “F.R.I.D.A.Y., scans, now.”

 

“So, do you think it could work?” Peter asks anxiously once he finishes explaining the plan.

“Honestly?” Doctor Strange asks, “Not a clue. But if it’s the best idea we’ve got then what other choice do we have?” he asks, raising a questioning eyebrow and waiting, as if hoping Peter will pull out a backup plan before continuing when Peter remains silent. “I’d like to experiment with your different ideas for memory transference, perhaps starting with… B.A.R.F.” he says while cringing, “since that’s the readiest method right now.”

He glances at Vision, hovering in a corner, the Mind Stone on his forehead glowing brightly as he focuses, then continues to the rest of the room. Peter follows his gaze: Tony and Shuri are bent over what Peter knows are the results of F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s scan; Jane’s in a corner scribbling notes on whatever paper she can find; Pepper has been on the phone in a rapid-fire discussion with Maria Hill, though Peter only knows cause he can hear both ends of it well enough, for the past half hour; the rest, T’Challa, Darcy, Rhodey, Ned and, surprisingly, MJ, are discussing a holographic representation of the machine Selvig made.

Peter’s gaze hovers over the last two, the excitement and hope bubbling in his chest transforming into an anxious simmer at the realisation that he hasn’t told them yet. They’d only been at the compound for a few hours and spending time with them had been a breather from the pressure hanging over him since the aliens had first attacked New York. It had been like turning a light on when you hadn’t even realised how far the sun had set. But even with Ned’s awe of the compound, the easy chatter and teasing between them, and the welcome distraction that 9,731 pieces of lego offered, tension hovered at the edges of the bubble, waiting for either Ned or MJ to ask the first question and pierce it.

Neither of them had. Peter was simultaneously relieved and even more anxious as they discussed fandoms (Ned) and women’s rights (MJ) instead of asking the questions on the tips of their tongues.

Peter had felt like he was choking.

Now this, with Ned and MJ right in the middle of it, even without knowing what’s going on.

He swallows, breathes, nods to Doctor Strange, then shuffles back over to Tony and Shuri, but instead of rejoining their discussion he reaches out, hesitates, then places a hand on Tony’s arm for attention.

“Have a look at these readings kid and tell me what you think. They’re strange, right?” he answers, before Peter even has the chance to glance at them, “but there are some familiar patterns, like here, and here,” he highlights the relevant sections with a quick flick of his finger through the displays. “I think that we can definitely replicate these energy signatures in the lab if we can-”

“That’s great, Tony, but could I – uh… speak with you real quick, about… um… a thing?”

Shuri, considerately, busies herself with the graphics, moving them around to her side of the table and from her expression Peter would say she’s already absorbed.

An arm wraps around his shoulders, leading him out of the room immediately, “Going on a snack run,” he calls over his shoulder as they head through the door, “Don’t break anything!”

They head quietly through to the kitchen and start raiding the cupboards for food without saying a word. Peter peeks at Tony’s face out of the corner of his eye and a knot of nerves appears in his throat when he sees his deep frown.

“Everything ok, kid?” he finally calls, his head somewhere in the fridge, searching for enough drinks for the whole group.

“Yeah, everything’s fine… I was just wondering if maybe B.A.R.F. is ready? It’d be good to get that done with, you know?”

He tries for a casual tone but knows he’s missed the mark completely when Tony’s head reappears, the frown still fixed in place. “Just a few small calibrations left, kiddo, but Dr Moors won’t arrive until tomorrow, and her being on site was part of the deal.”

Peter fiddles with the bag of potato chips in his hands, “Well, just… Doctor Strange was saying he’d like to try using B.A.R.F. soon to see if he can open a portal with just memories, so…”

Tony gives him a piercing look, “He can use it whenever he’s ready,” he says firmly.

“And me?” Peter asks, deciding to go for the straight-forward approach.

“No.” There’s no hesitance in the word and Peter curls slightly in on himself at the displeasure in his voice.

“I just think it’d be good if we could get that out of the way so we can focus on the plan,” he argues, “And for, like, the people who can’t be here, like Wanda who we might end up needing if B.A.R.F. doesn’t work and Vision can’t figure out the Mind Stone. They need to know what’s going on!”

“I said no, Peter,” Tony says, closing the fridge with more force than required, “You agreed when I said you could use it, that you’d wait for your therapist to arrive and you’d talk to her straight after. It’s only one more day, you can wait!”

“Why don’t you ever listen to me?” Peter shouts, finally losing his cool with Tony’s demands. He regrets it immediately when Tony flinches back, as if slapped, and all the fight drains from both of them.

“Why are you so desperate, Pete?” Tony asks after a lengthy silence.

Peter only has two options to answer that question – tell the truth, or stay silent, and the latter isn’t even an option when Tony sounds so tired and worried it makes Peter’s gut clench with guilt, “I don’t want to think about it anymore,” he admits, staring at the floor, the words wobbling as they leave his mouth. “I have to tell Ned and MJ what happened, but I don’t want to have to try to put it all in words again. The memories are already running through my head on a loop each night, whether I’m awake or asleep, so why can’t I just B.A.R.F. already and move on?”

“Pete,” Tony whispers softly, taking three quick steps across the room to stand in front of him, hands quivering uncertainly between them before falling back to his side, “You know that’s not what B.A.R.F. is going to do for you. It’s going to reopen all those wounds right back up and you’re going to have to watch everything happen all over again without changing it… If you don’t want to do it, that’s fine, nobody will think any less of you. We have a plan now, or at least the start of one, so we can focus on building on that and we might not even have to fight Thanos when he has the gauntlet, we can kill him before he even gets that far and then-”

“I’m scared, Tony,” Peter admits, cutting off his nervous rambling.

Tony takes a sharp breath in, more of a pained gasp, as if he’d been stabbed in the stomach by Peter’s words, “Then we won’t do it, I’ll go take it all apart right now and we can-”

“But I’m more scared,” Peter continues and Tony’s mouth snaps closed with a _clack_ of teeth, “of what will happen if I don’t. I need to know that I’m doing everything I can to stop him, even if that means living it all again. At least I know this time, that after I die, you’ll all still be here.”

“We will, I promise, Peter. Just hold out one more day, ok, kid?”

Peter nods, half-heartedly at best.

“When is the doc going to arrive, F.R.I.?” Tony asks.

“Doctor Moors is due to arrive at the compound at 9am tomorrow morning,” the A.I. responds promptly, without a single insult towards her creator.

“There we go, she’ll arrive at 9am so just one more night, then you can sit down with her, discuss what will happen and if you want anyone there with you or not, you can make all the calls, alright?”

Peter finally looks back up at him, “You should be there, Tony.”

“No ‘should’s kid, it’s your choice.”

“But you should know,” Peter insists, and he’s suddenly stiff-backed and vehement again. “Both Thanos and Doctor Strange said you were the most important, the key to stopping Thanos!”

“Kid, listen,” he says, taking the last step closer to Peter and putting a hand on each of his elbows to hold him in place, “Maybe that was true, I’ll be the first to say it sounds about right, I’m a pretty important guy, but that was in that… timeline, reality, world, whatever you want to call it. That was before all of this happened, before _you_ happened and started to fix everything. You are the most important person in the _universe_ right now, Pete, and not just… not just because of what we’re doing, but because… because… I… uh… It isn’t meant to be this hard!” Tony laughs, cynically, but doesn’t look away from Peter’s eyes, “It’s because I care about you, kid,” he finally whispers into the space between them, as if saying it any louder would make him somehow more vulnerable than he’s already allowed. “A lot. And I’m proud of you, for being the best man you can be, even though you make some big mistakes; you’re going to be the best of us.”

It’s impossible to say who hugs who first, but Peter is happy to hide his face in Tony’s shirt and let the tears soak through the fabric. ‘I’m proud of you’ Tony says when Peter can still so clearly picture his disappointment and anger when Peter had appeared on the spaceship. ‘Don’t pretend you thought this through’ he’d said, but the words feel a bit further away than they had. ‘Not your fault’ Tony had said after Thanos had left, when Peter tried to apologise for not pulling the gauntlet off faster, but the words were empty. ‘I’m proud of you’ rips through the memory and tramples the despondent words into the dust of Titan. His breathing dissolves into hiccoughs that jerk through his whole frame every few seconds.

_‘I’m proud of you.’_

_‘You’re going to be the best of us.’_

It’s several long minutes before the tears and hiccoughs slow, then disappear, but Tony holds him patiently, a hand rubbing soothingly through the shortest hairs at the base of his neck, and lips gently shushing and reassuring him between the softest of kisses being pressed into his crown.

Peter doesn’t want to be the first to move, he’s never been as comfortable as he is then, and he’s content to stay that way as long as Tony is; he trusts the older man will break the hug when he’s had enough.

Minutes pass.

The hug continues.

The fingers comb through the hairs.

Tony starts to hum softly under his breath, and Peter can barely hear the notes over the reverberations in his chest.

Someone coughs, awkwardly.

 

“So, um,” a voice suddenly interrupts from the door, “About the snacks?”

Tony levels the glare he reserves for incompetent morons at Darcy, over Peter’s head, but Peter laughs, too burned out to even care beyond quickly wiping his face with a sleeve, “Never change, Darcy.”

“I’ll… um, come back in five minutes?” she offers gracelessly and quickly disappears again.

“She’s worse than you are,” Tony groans, giving the head under his hand a little shake before pulling back far enough to meet Peter’s eyes. They’re red and bloodshot, but Tony doesn’t worry too much about it when he sees the small smile gracing Peter’s face too.

“All good?” he asks, cuffing Peter on the chin with the softest of punches.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, his throat a bit raw. “Will you watch everything tomorrow? I want you to.”

Tony nods, seriously, “Whatever you want, kid.”

“MJ and Ned should see it too. And I’ll… talk to May tonight, I don’t know what she’ll… we’ll see. The others… can we just show the others the recordings?” he asks, looking up to Tony with hopeful dewy eyes.

“Whatever you want,” Tony promises again, and if Peter doesn’t grasp the depth of the promise, well, that’s ok, he will eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Peter was literally just meant to be like 'How's BARF going' and Tony be like 'maybe tomorrow' but then Peter was like nope this is going to be an argument...  
> I honestly don't know if I'm completely in character, or so far off-base it's not even comparable anymore.  
> Peter represented me though in this chapter, he just needs lots of support and hugs...


	17. Breathe, then Accept

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confession time - B.A.R.F. was never actually meant to be an important part of this story. He was actually meant to use it at the very start but I actually just forgot so then was like oh well he can realise later and I'll add that in quickly so everyone knows what's happening...  
> Then you guys got super hyped about it and now I feel all the pressure to make it good haha  
> Sadly I still haven't got to it in this chapter. Each time I think I will and then the characters have other things to do first but I really, REALLY think it'll be next chapter!!
> 
> Don't think I'll get to post tomorrow, so have this as a one-day-early 1 month anniversary chapter. I cannot believe this fic has over 2200 kudos and over 600 comments in just one month! Thank you *kisses*

“Mr Stark, Steve Rogers is on the phone for you. You are now twenty minutes late for the meeting you scheduled,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. informs them, and even for an A.I. she sounds reluctant to interrupt the moment.

“Tell him I’ll call tomorrow, something’s come up,” Tony says dismissively, finally pulling back from the hug and smoothing Peter’s ruffled hair back down from where it’s been tucked under his chin.

“He would like to remind you that they have been waiting for over ten hours now,” she adds and Tony sighs, running a hand over his tired face.

“I know, tell him I’m… sorry, but if he waits we’ll have a plan for him, and maybe some proof too,” he says, before turning to Peter with a fragile smile, “Only if you’re up for it though, remember Pete.”

Peter nods, assuredly, “I know Tony, but I will be; I want to.”

“If you’re sure…” he trails off with one last hopeful pause, waiting for Peter to have second thoughts but he only nods once more. “Well then, big day tomorrow, so I think we should take the rest of the night off; nothing helps bring a team together more than a movie night!”

Peter starts to object because now they have a plan they can really start working and taking time off when there are things to do is surely-

“Besides, your lovely Aunt May has been a bit neglected since we all started sciencing so wouldn’t it be good to spend some time with her?”

All the fight leaves him when he realises that Tony’s right – May had arrived back from New York before Tony and Peter did, and he’s only seen her once since then, he’d been so distracted by Ned and MJ.

Tony is far too used to being right so he just snickers when Peter’s shoulders slump in resignation, “Let me get everything set up, I’ll try to round up the freeloaders too, you just go find your aunt; didn’t you have something you wanted to speak to her about anyway?” he prompts, reminding Peter of their conversation on the way to Midtown.

“I… uh- yeah… I guess,” Peter mumbles.

Tony takes him by surprise, wrapping his arms around Peter’s shoulders and pulling him into another brief hug, “Take your time, kiddo; we’ll be in the communal area if you want to join us. If you don’t, I’ll keep an eye on your friends so just focus on yourself.”

Peter nods into his chest and then pulls away to look up at him with a small, bright smile, “Thanks Tony.”

Tony grimaces, his cheeks slightly red, “Yeah, yeah, get out of here kid, tell your aunt I said hello.”

Even the flirty eyebrow waggle doesn’t earn its usual disgust from Peter, for once he just laughs and darts out of the room, calling an “I will,” over his shoulder.

What is Tony going to do with that kid?

 

Peter finds May, thanks to F.R.I.D.A.Y. a few doors along from her bedroom, in what has obviously been swiftly converted into an office space for her. There’s papers all over her desk and it’s not difficult to notice his own face staring up from the covers of them all as he enters the room.

“May?” he calls out softly when she doesn’t react to the door opening. Guilt stabs through his chest when she startles before turning to look at him. Her hair’s pulled back in a messy bun, but she’s clearly been running her hands through it as loose strands are flying everywhere. There’re the beginnings of dark circles under her eyes and she looks a bit tired.

He suddenly wonders how long she’s been holed up in the room, trying to sort things out for him even without him knowing.

“Hey, sweetie, I thought you were with Ned?” she asks, trying to subtly pull the papers together as he steps into the room.

“And MJ,” he says. “We had a bit of a breakthrough, an idea on how to reach Thor in Asgard. But Tony decided maybe it’d be good to have a break, so we’re going to put a movie on if you want to join us?”

Movie nights are a long-standing tradition in the Parker house, so he expects her to jump at the chance, not for her eyes to stray back to the papers in her hands, her brows creasing with worry.

“You don’t have to come,” he says even though he wants to insist, “But do you have some time just now, I wanted to discuss a few things with you, and maybe get some advice…”

She smiles softly and points him to the other chair just beside the desk, “I always have time for you, Peter, you’re my number one priority.”

He flushes but smiles, taking the seat. Only when he does, and May is watching him patiently, does he realise he has no idea where to start.

Better to get the worst topic out of the way first, he decides; “I’m going to use the B.A.R.F. system tomorrow,” he informs her, looking down at the way his fingers twist and intertwine with each other instead of her concerned expression. “My therapist is arriving in the morning, and then Tony’s going to let me record what exactly happened so we can study Thanos more…” Peter pauses, noticing the way his knuckles have turned white and forcing his fingers to unlock from each other before laying his hands flat against his legs. “Tony said I should decide who I want to see them with me, that it’s my choice and if I don’t want people there then that’s fine…”

Slim hands appear in his vision, resting gently over his own and rubbing soothing circles into his knuckles, “That’s right, sweetie, you can choose, everyone will understand.”

“I hope so… I want Tony to watch, and Ned and MJ if they want to, but…” he bites his lip and his fingers clench involuntarily. “I – I… don’t know if I want you to watch.”

He peeks up through his lashes just in time to see the hurt carefully wiped from her face and hurries to explain before she can reassure him that it’s ok (when it’s not).

“I just don’t want you to see… what happened on Titan. I don’t want it to remind you of when…”

_‘Of when Ben was killed’_ , they both fill in silently.

Her hands clench around his, both their knuckles as white as bone. It’s the first time either of them have willingly brought up that night since it happened, and Peter feels awful for being the one to mention it, but he needs May to understand.

He waits, knowing it’s not his turn to break the silence, and willing to give May as long as she needs to come to a decision, knowing that whether she watches or not, it doesn’t change that it happened.

“I wasn’t there, was I? When you…” she takes a deep, shuddering breath, “when you died.”

Peter twists his hands, to hold hers in his lap as he silently shakes his head.

“Well, if I couldn’t be there then, the best I can do is be there with you now; if you want me to, of course.”

Peter looks up and regrets it the instant he meets her teary eyes because his well up instantly in response.

She pulls him forward by their clasped hands, until he’s falling forwards into her and only lets go to wrap her thin arms around him.

“Do you want me to be there, sweetheart?” she whispers and he silently nods into her neck. “Then I will be, for as long as you want me to. It’ll be ok, you’re safe now, with me, and Ned, and MJ, and Tony. We’re here for you.”

It’s years since the last time Peter sat in her lap and let her rock him reassuringly back and forth, hiding his tears from the world. The last time to even come close was after he lost the “Stark Internship” and she’d been mad with worry at him for skipping detention, but even that couldn’t compare to the way they stayed crushed together on a desk chair made for one person, her reassuring murmurs the only sound in the room as time slipped by unnoticed.

Lines of sticky salt water were smeared in between his face and her shoulder by the time she finally spoke again.

“I stopped by the kitchen earlier,” she whispers softly into his ear, and he nods absently, to show he’s listening. “You were there, with Tony…”

He thinks of what she must have seen, how it must have looked to her when she’s known the man for only a few days, and quickly tries to sit up to explain.

Her arms stay tight around him though, holding him in place and she quickly shushes his explanations, “You don’t need to explain, sweetie. I had a lot of… pre-conceived opinions of him, and I’m not going to say that some of them weren’t true, but a lot of them weren’t. As much as it pains me to admit it, I really do think he’s good for you,” she pauses, then kisses his head and amends, “the two of you are good for each other. Pepper says she’s never seen him like this either, so while I don’t agree with what he did and keeping it all a secret from me… I know his heart’s in the right place and I’ll step back every now and then to let you two have some father-son bonding time.”

The muscles that had loosened and relaxed with the words she whispered instantly pull taut again when she says the ‘f’ word, and he once more tries to struggle upright to deny it, but May can be a strong-ass motherfucker when she wants, and there’s nothing within Peter that would let him use his enhanced strength on her, so he has no choice but to stay in her arms, as stiff as a board.

“He’s not-” he starts, but as soon as he tries he can’t find the words to deny it. “I’m not-”

“Anyone who’s seen the two of you together knows how much you care for each other,” she says, her fingers rubbing tiny circles into his scalp. “I don’t think he’d let just anyone join him and Pepper in bed you know, especially not when they bring their old aunt along too!”

He chuckles at her weak attempted at a joke, “You’re not old.”

“I’ll be in a care home before you know it,” she tells him in a serious voice, earning an amused snort from Peter.

This time May waits for him to gather his thoughts, humming a tune softly under her breath that slowly resolves into Princess Leia’s Theme. He waits for her to finish the melody before speaking.

“I… I don’t want to replace Ben,” he whispers reluctantly, feeling her tense at the words before relaxing again with a tired sigh.

“You know what Ben would say to that, Peter?” She pauses for emphasis, then smacks him on the back of the head, earning a muttered ‘Ow’ but more importantly, a chuckle. “We both know you’ll never replace him, sweetie, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have other people to fill the role, and if it’s Tony Stark you want as a father figure then far be it from me to stand in the way. Ben would be happy that I’ve got someone else around to look out for you, god knows I need as many pairs of eyes as I can get!”

Peter chuckles again, “I’m not _that_ bad!”

“I’ve seen the videos of what you were wearing before Tony gave you a suit, sweetheart, you really are.”

He huffs but, after a moment’s hesitation, finally looks up at her again, eyes red-rimmed and cheeks flushed.

“It’s really ok?” he asks, softly, watching her expression for any hint of disapproval so May just smiles.

“Of course. And if he ever hurts you in any way, I will show him just what I learned growing up in Brooklyn.”

“May, you’re meant to say that about someone I date, not my dad!”

The word falls easily from his mouth, betraying the number of times he’d thought about using it when thinking or speaking of Tony and May just smiles more.

“Well, he can be a bit thick when it comes to people, even for a supposed genius.”

She waits patiently as Peter continues to examine her for any sign of displeasure, but slowly his lips twist into a small smile and he ducks his head back into her neck, “Thanks, May,” he whispers.

“No problem. Now, did you want to go see what the rest of them have got up to while we’ve been hidden away in here?”

He nods, finally clambering back from where he’d been sprawled on her lap and trying to straighten the wrinkles out of his clothes and brush the crustiness from his eyes.

May stands with a groan and stretches her back out before reaching out to fix his hair once more. “We good?” she asks and Peter nods before heading to the door.

His hand is already turning the handle when he remembers the other thing he’d actually come to talk to her about.

“Actually, there was something else… something Tony suggested I think about earlier and I wondered if you could sort something out for me…”

“Something relating to PR, I’m guessing?” she asks with a raised brow. “Just tell me what you want and I’ll get it sorted, ok?”

“Thank you, Aunt May,” he says, and then, because maybe he doesn’t say it enough, he adds, “I love you.”

A tender smile crosses her face, “I love you too, Pete. Now tell me what you’re thinking, I’ll shoot off a few quick emails, then we can go relax with everyone else.”

 

The Lego Movie, no doubt at Ned’s insistence, is half-way through by the time they make it the communal living room where everyone else is already gathered. As if he has some sort of sensor, or at least F.R.I.D.A.Y. giving him updates, Tony notices immediately when they enter the room and nudges Rhodey with his foot.

“As nice as this is, budge over a bit, I need some time with my best boy.”

Rhodey grumbles but has already made space by the time Peter makes it to the couch and flops down between the two men while May heads over to sit with Pepper and Jane and their bowl full of popcorn.

It’s a tight fit, but that’s all the excuse he needs to cuddle closer to Tony to watch the rest of the movie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things that happen a lot in my stories – smiles, nods, hugs, people fixing or messing Peter’s hair, kisses to his head, emotional discussions that go way longer than I expect…
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments! <3


	18. Breathe, then B.A.R.F.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am terrified of this chapter because I worry it's just going to let all of you down, since you've been looking forward to B.A.R.F. for so long now...  
> It really drained the life out of me though, and I don't know how I'd want to change it to improve it so this is what we're going with.
> 
> Reminder for all my readers to take however much time you need to get past anything that has upset you, and also to take time in your day to just breath and relax.
> 
> I took a short break after finishing writing this to eat dinner before checking it for typos. As I ate I read a really good fic that I recommend for anyone who likes Tony and May co-parenting and supporting each other, it's called "for good" by Madelinedear.
> 
> Hope this chapter is worth the wait!

Doctor Moors turns out to be a tiny, stumpy woman with wisps of hair flying in every direction but a steely look of determination in her eyes. She looks ready to either take up arms against the world for you or sit you down with tea and biscuits and ask about your life. Of course, working with Peter will probably be a mix of the two.

She arrives early enough to join them for breakfast, and quickly reassures Peter that it’s ok to be nervous when he doesn’t eat much in her soft, squeaky voice. She asks him about his hobbies and what he does as Spider-Man to keep his mind off what he’s about to do, and the rest of the table listens in to his tales of rescuing kittens from trees and carrying groceries for the old lady who lives off 46th Street.

He gets a few funny stories about T’Challa’s superheroics, mostly from Shuri rather than the king himself, and even a tale from Dr Strange about sitting on a doorstep in Nepal for five hours after insulting the leader of an ancient magical group – not his best first impression ever, he’d admitted with a rueful smile.

Eventually though, Tony arrives in the kitchen, bringing with him a sombre mood that spreads through the room like fog, curling around each person and creating a blanket of misery.

“You ready, kiddo?” Tony asks with a forced smile, giving Peter a hearty smack on the back before reaching over to steal an apple from the table.

“Sure, let’s get started,” Peter says with an excess of false bravado. Ned, MJ, May and Dr Moors stand too, and the rest of the table waves them goodbye as if they don’t know what he’s disappearing for.

Tony’s set the system up in a training room, one with an observation area connected through a large glass window. His aunt, friends and therapist head through while Tony gives him a demonstration of the B.A.R.F. glasses and then gets Peter to have a go, first asking him to reconstruct a still image of breakfast that morning, then an older memory.

The warehouse, with Toomes front and centre, unfolds around them. Tony glances around, looking pleased with his work until his eyes fall on the holographic image of the other man. He pointedly turns his back, focusing completely on Peter and going into lecture mode.

“As the glasses connect directly to the hippocampus which deals with memories, to put it simply. You’ll find that even parts of your memory that you can’t consciously recall will still have many details, but you’ll also see that memories tend to blur around the edges, as even your brain has limits. You get all of that?”

Peter nods, face slightly scrunched up as he focuses on the memory.

“If you want a break, just tap here to put the system in stand-by,” he says with a light tap to the frame of the glasses to switch the system off.

Peter nods again, not speaking, probably because his lips are pinched tightly closed and his face is already paling.

“We can do this whenever you’re ready, Pete, even if that’s not today,” Tony reminds him one more time.

“I’m ready, Tony, I want to get it over with,” Peter says quickly, then clamps his mouth closed again, breathing heavily through his nose instead.

“Ok then kid, we’ll be just over there and can hear everything you say if you want to take a break or need anything…”

“I’ll be fine, Tony,” Peter insists.

Tony rubs his head, “Just remember that you don’t have to be.”

He heads to the observation room quickly, before he can start trying to talk the kid out of it again. Time to get the show on the road.

 

Before Peter had come into her life, May had only had the vaguest of ‘maybe one day’ thoughts with regards to having kids. Neither her nor Ben had been in any place to raise a child, but then suddenly there wasn’t any option; there was a kid depending on them in every way and there wasn’t a chance she’d do anything but her best to raise him.

So, she’d prepared herself for sleepless nights when nightmares kept Peter up. She’d prepared for making time in her schedule for Parent-Teacher nights and other school events. She’d prepared for the inevitability of hormones and puberty.  And then she’d prepared herself to work even harder because she was the only one left to provide for Peter and she’d be damned before she left him go hungry or cold.

She’d never prepared herself for this; for standing to the side and watching as her kid, as good as a son to her, shows them how he died.

“August 27th, about 10.30am,” Peter calls from the next room and an instant later the holographic image spreads out around him.

For a split second, May thinks about shouting, asking for a few more minutes to prepare herself because there could never be enough, but she bites her lip and stops herself; none of this is about her, and if Peter is ready to start then she has to be too.

The picture that appears is… so normal. There’s a second Peter, a few meters from where her Peter is standing, looking at the inside of the school bus with a stern frown that doesn’t suit his face.

It could have been any day, but then the image starts to move, and there’s a spaceship, then Peter’s out of the bus, swinging over the water and then into the middle of a fight just in time to, of course, safe Tony from being injured. From the corner of her eye she sees Tony shift slightly forward when Peter enters the fight but she couldn’t spare a moment to check if he’s ok if she wanted.

The fight is so fast, and the alien they’re fighting so strong, she can almost understand how he would be able to destroy the universe with a click of his fingers. Trees, rubble and even a piece of a car are being thrown around and some of Peter’s evasions are by the skin of his teeth, it’s unreal and terrifying just watching.

And yet, memory-Tony and Peter are chattering away the whole time, as if they’re in the park for a game of frisbee rather than to fight off intergalactic invaders.

A Doctor Strange burrito goes flying through the scene, followed by another alien and May suddenly recalls Peter saying that it was Thanos’ _minions_ that had come to Earth at the start – all the air leaves her lungs with the realisation that neither of these insanely strong aliens is actually the biggest threat to her child.

Peter’s off again at a word from Tony, and it’s so fast the whole display is a blur except Peter in the middle of it.

“That’s good,” Tony mutters as Peter starts to dodge flying debris, “better suited for Pete, not likely to be smushed,” only to wince when Pete flies face first into part of a billboard. It takes May a moment to realise he’s evaluating his future self’s choices.

If only they could evaluate Peter’s choices as positively, she thinks, as he tries to stop Doctor Strange being kidnapped by aliens and ends up attached to the outside of the ship as it very quickly starts to leave Earth’s atmosphere.

Her hands are clenched like vices in front of her chest, and she might not have been breathing for the last minute at least and she can feel her body starting to protest as Peter argues with Tony, then grows short of breath as the oxygen thins. Only when Peter finally takes a deep breath, in the same new suit as he’s worn for the press conference just days ago, does she also finally take a breath. Her wobbly hand leaves smeared prints on the glass window that she’d leant on for support when she needed something to keep her upright.

Tony appears in the hologram moments later, and the next second sends Peter flying back away from the ship.

May’s never been one to spoil books by peaking at the ending before she gets there, she’d always rather let the story progress and try to guess where it will go. But even though she knows where this story ends up, she can’t help the instant of relief at seeing Peter be pulled back towards Earth, away from what she knows is his death.

Of course, then he’s webbing himself to the ship and pulling himself back up and into the ship and she knows there’s no changing the end of this story.

“Fuck,” she and Tony both mutter together as the hologram fades away on the Earth disappearing behind a sheet of metal as the ship’s door closes with Peter on the inside.

“That was… the first part,” Peter announces with an exhausted sigh, “Give me a few minutes and I’ll do the next part but wow I didn’t realise how mentally exhausting this thing would be…”

“Take as long as you need, sweetheart,” she says and this time her words are amplified through the connecting room for Peter to hear too, “We don’t have to do it all today,” she adds with a glance to Tony who nods in agreement.

“I know,” is all Peter says, but it’s clear from his tone that, as far as he’s concerned, it’s all or nothing, and they’ve already started so now they’re going to finish.

Ned shuffles up beside her, standing closer to the glass with a boyish look of excitement, “Wow, Peter, that was so freaking cool! He was like wham bam, then you were like cool it bro and then the other guy was like zoom zoom and you went swush swush and then you were in _space_ and you got a new suit and I can’t believe you’ve been off-world, you get to do all the _coolest_ things!”

Even MJ looks slightly impressed, behind her calm, cool and collected façade and May just wants to pull them away and shush them because they don’t _know_ yet; they don’t know where all this is leading to because they’re young and all the stories always end with the heroes winning and a happily ever after.

Instead Tony quickly speaks up, saving Pete from having to put together a reply, “How’s your head doing, kiddo? Any headaches?”

“No, Tony, it’s fine so far.”

“Ok but let me know if you start feeling it, especially just behind your eyes, that’ll be the first sign that we need to take a longer break.”

Peter nods seriously, then turns his back on the window again, tapping the button to restart the glasses, “Let’s keep going. Next is once I caught up with Tony. He was a bit mad so we’re going to just skip that part and watch the part where I kick ass, I mean butt!”

May wouldn’t even have bothered chastising him right now, even if he hadn’t distracted them with the scene starting again as Peter carefully and silently climbs through the rafters of the ship and Tony shoots out of his cover to confront the other alien.

May wants to strangle them both; they’re in the middle of space, fighting an evil alien, and yet they still can’t help making witty one-liners at every – oh, that had actually been quite clever and she feels a bit less guilty for letting Peter watch those movies now… Maybe she’ll hold off on strangling Tony for now…

Nope, nevermind, not two minutes later and he actually had the best opportunity to protect Peter from everything and instead he decides they’re going straight to wherever Thanos is. She turns to face him with a glare, but it falters then softens into a sad frown when she sees the sorrow he’s not even trying to hide.

Her focus is drawn swiftly back to Peter when the memory surrounding him suddenly collapses into a blur of colours only to reform differently a second later. They’re still on the ship, but there’s a clear sense of urgency, and a moment later May places the source of it when she sees the surface of a planet very quickly approaching. Dust flies everywhere as what’s left of the ship smashes into the ground, throwing the three still inside flying through the air. Peter, cleverly, throws together a miniature spider web at the last minute to cling to.

Before they’ve even really got their feet back under them, the Guardians of the Galaxy, for there’s no-one else it could be, appear in a blaze of confusion and misunderstandings. May can only agree with Peter’s assessment of them; sincere, but completely insane.

There’s a plan (and thank god for Tony being there to be a functioning adult because otherwise, they’d 100% be screwed) and Doctor Strange gives them the worst, bar one, odds possible. Maybe she’ll strangle him instead for not explaining what they had to do to take that single route to victory!

There’s some tense, pre-battle chit-chat.

Then Thanos arrives.

If she’d thought the fight on Earth was intense, it’s nothing compared to this one. He’s overwhelming, his strength is frankly horrifying, and watching Peter get wrenched out of a portal and slammed into the ground with no mercy makes her cry out in distress.

She hadn’t understood, not fully, the fear and anxiety plaguing Peter whenever Thanos was mentioned, but now, watching each hero take their turn against the Titan and be rebuffed with ease, she thinks she might be starting to.

But at the same time, a coal of hope burns through the dread because look at them, all of them, putting aside their egos and differences and using their own powers to boost each other higher and push Thanos back a tiny bit more and then, with three of them pinning him down including her own Peter, the alien girl drops through one of Doctor Strange’s portals and he’s out.

_‘The gauntlet isn’t going to come off. It won’t come off. Don’t be stupid, May, you know how this goes’_ , her brain repeats over and over, and yet her heart doesn’t seem to get the message, clenching desperately with each pulse, as if increased blood flow through her body will do anything to fix the future Peter came back from.

And yet he’s trying so hard, working with Tony to pull the giant, meaty fingers out of the tacky costume glove.

It starts to come off and her heart beats faster.

_‘It’s not going to come off, remember that May, there’s no happy ending.’_

The other Peter comes flying in and she clenches her fists so hard the nails are biting deep into the skin and she knows there’ll be marks for the rest of the day but this is where everything _fails_ all because of that man who-

Oh.

The man who ruins everything because his heart is ripped right out of his chest and ground into dust. She can’t help but feel for him, because she can remember just what that feels like, that night when a policeman turned up on her door and told her her husband wasn’t going to be coming back. There’s no good way to get that news.

So May feels for him. Overwhelmingly.

But she also feels an uncontrollable burning rage that moves her whole body when Peter _pulls the gauntlet off_ for a split-second in time.

Her fist slams into the window between her and Peter at the same time as Thanos’ fist slams into Peter’s chest, throwing him hundreds of meters through the air.

Everyone in the room with her jumps, but Peter must be too lost in the memories to notice. In them, Peter is busy rescuing the unconscious Guardians from chunks of debris flying in every direction.

When he makes it back to Tony, the fight’s over; Thanos is gone.

So is the Time Stone.

The memories fade once more and Peter slumps.

 

There’s no exclamations of delight from the two teens in the room with her this time. A glance at them from the corner of her eye shows them completely white in the face, as if having come face to face with a ghost.

Peter glances over his shoulder, looking at them through the glass separating the two rooms. His eyes glance over Ned and MJ, pause for a moment on hers, then finish resting on Tony. He hadn’t looked at them the whole time he’d been diving through memories, and from one glance she can see why – he’s barely holding it all together, and it gets worse when he opens his mouth.

“This is the last one… does anyone want to… before…” he trails off, glancing between her, MJ and Ned with a lingering gaze that weighs heavy on each of their shoulders. This time he doesn’t even spare a glance for Tony, as if he’s already certain in the knowledge that Tony will stay. Something tries to claw at her heart, a small threat of jealousy that she shakes off; he doesn’t look to Tony because there’s an understanding between them; an awareness of the likelihood that even if Thanos is stopped, there will be another fight, and another, and chances are this is the type of ending those who stand up to fight for their world will get, sooner or later… There’s no peaceful death at the end of the line for them, and that’s what they’ve put their names down for when they took up their suits.

None of the rest of them can ever understand that, not on the same, instinctive level, so, no, May does not let the jealousy take hold, but she can’t stop the grief she feels for them both.

Nobody moves and slowly Peter turns his back to them once more.

If she’s thought he was tense before, it’s nothing compared to the way his shoulders hunch up to his ears and his back curves forwards to make himself as small as possible.

Nobody moves for a minute, then another, as Peter stands silently, taking deep breaths that catch in his throat in a little gasp each time.

“Actually,” he suddenly says with a raspy voice, not even turning to glance at them, so all they can see is the back of his head, “Would if be ok if… could you… I’m sorry, but, would you… Ned, MJ, would you leave? Just for… for now, you can… later… but for now I just want…”

They’re on their feet before he even finishes with a choked off sob.

“I’ll help this loser sort out the pieces for the next level of the tower,” MJ says with forced normality in her voice.

“Yeah, it’ll be all ready for whenever you want to join in, no rush man,” Ned adds with a bright tone that doesn’t fit the mood of the room but manages to relax Peter’s shoulders slightly anyway.

They don’t bother saying anything else and seconds later the door clicks shut behind them.

“Ok, let’s do this then,” Peter says, as much to himself as to them, “It’s not my finest moment, so don’t set your expectations too high or anything, there’s no blaze of glory for this spider…”

He’s babbling. It’s so like him, whenever he’s nervous, he’d just start talking. At first, it’d been to get someone to talk back, to reassure himself he wasn’t alone after his parents had died, but eventually it had evolved into just endless streams of words to distract his brain from whatever it was facing. This time, May wishes she could respond with her own babble, to help him push through, but all she can offer just now is standing silently as he gathers his focus again and, with a forceful exhale, lets the ruined Titan appear around him again.

Without conscious thought, her hand has reached out, clenching desperately around Tony’s as all the characters in the performance reappear from Peter’s memories too.

Tony twists his hand to clench hers in return.

“Did we… lose?” Quill asks, disbelievingly as he suddenly appears back on the scene just after Thanos disappears.

“Yes,” Peter whispers, voice soft and filled with dread, “We lost.”

“And it’s on _you_ ,” Tony shoots acidly. He looks absolutely wrecked, May is surprised he can even stand by himself and is more than relieved when Peter rushes to help him up. “If you hadn’t-”

Whatever he’s planning on saying is lost in a scream of complete despair and loathing as Quill collapses to the ground, fingers clawed into his hair.

A short distance away another scream joints the cacophony, higher pitched and pained rather than despondent. Mantis, slowly making her way back to the group, collapses with a short scream. Drax is just in time to catch her before she hits the ground. He scoops her up, making her look even smaller in his arms, then storms across the distance still between them and plants a foot into Quill’s shoulder, knocking him to the ground and Quill doesn’t even try to fight back.

He stops screaming though, staring blankly up at his teammates.

“You are hurting her!” he shouts angrily, making Quill look down despairingly. It doesn’t seem to help Mantis whose hands are clawing into Drax’s chest and heaving for breath. Drax stares silently down at Quill, as if desperate to punch him but holding back. “Gamora would not want us to hurt each other,” he says, as much to Quill as to himself, “She told me once that we are her family, so we shouldn’t hurt each other. I questioned her understanding of genetics, however she explained it was a ‘family of choice’ and that she thinks that is the most important type, provided you choose them yourself. I did not… understand, but I might now.” He shifts Mantis to one arm, and thankfully she’s already starting to perk back up, and offers the other to Quill who glances at it, then slowly reaches out to take the hand, allowing himself to be pulled back to his feet. “And besides, we may have lost, but part of our family is still out there, with the manly pirate-angel, and they will try to fight Thanos too. Their chances are infinitesimal but maybe Thanos will – how did the song from your world go? – Thanos will… bite the dust?”

It’s a nice speech, surprisingly so from an alien who seemed very much detached from emotions in all his previous conversations, and the group in the memory manage the smallest of smiles.

Her Peter flinches and draws even further in on himself.

Peter helps Tony hobble closer, a hand supporting him under the arm, around the fractured remains of his suit; May’s glad Peter barely saw any of the fight that left Tony in that state, for Peter’s sake and for hers.

“What should I… What should I do, Mr Stark? You’re really hurt…”

“I’ll be fine, kid, really.” The small gasp of pain he releases when Peter carefully lowers him onto a rock belies his assurances. “I’ve had worse, you know; one time I accidentally destroyed Pep’s favourite shoes under my repulsors… she’s much more terrifying than Thanos when she’s mad…”

He trails off and no-one, in the memory or watching it, misses the wistful, pained look that crosses his face

“Mr Stark?” Peter calls softly, trying to draw his attention back.

“Yeah kid?”

Peter looks down, his lower lip wobbling and tears starting to well up in his eyes, “I’m sorry I couldn’t get the gauntlet off faster.”

A whole body flinch goes through all of the others that are listening in to the conversation.

Memory-Tony just slumps slightly on his rock, not looking up at her kid, “It’s fine, kid, doesn’t matter,” he mutters.

There’s a long pause, then Tony sighs, reaching a hand out to rest on Peter’s shoulder, and wincing slightly when the stretch pulls at his wounds.

“You did the best you could kid,” he says with much more sincerity this time, “we all did, so keep your head up. We’ll get another chance, I promise.”

A few tears hit the dusty ground when Peter nods, then stumbles when Tony’s hand drags him down against his body and then wraps around him.

“Mr Stark, there isn’t a car door to open,” Peter sniffles.

“What you talking about, kiddo?”

“I thought we weren’t at hugs yet, Mr Stark?” he asks with a wet chuckle.

Tony rubs a small circle in his back before pulling back, “Well, we’ve come a long way together, literally, so I think we’re there now. But don’t think you can just get them whenever you want, special occasions only, ok? Like when you graduate from M.I.T. Now no more tears, alright?”

Peter quickly wipes at his eyes and stands again, his back much straighter this time, and chin jutting forwards determinedly.

In contrast, her Peter shrinks further, going as far as to wrap his arms around himself. On even closer inspection, May is able to notice the fine tremors shaking through his whole body.

“Now, let’s get our asses onto that space ship,” Tony says, letting Peter pull him back to his feet now he’s regained his breath, “and chase after that Titan douchebag so that we can-”

“Something’s happening,” Mantis says suddenly, looking out into space.

And then she crumbles to dust.

Drax does too.

Those in the memory turn to Quill as he starts to disintegrate, more slowly than the others to begin with.

“Quill?” Tony asks desperately. He might have been furious with the other man mere minutes before, but he looks heartbroken when the ashes drift away with the wind.

“Tony.”

Doctor Strange is hunched over, clutching his stomach as if to hold it in one piece, but still managing to look apologetic as he falls apart, “There was no other way…”

May doesn’t even watch him disappear, she can’t because Peter’s said enough to know that next… he…

“Mr Stark? I don’t feel so good…”

Memory Tony twists, blood draining from his face and mouth hanging slightly open. His eyes are wide and pleading as the quietest “No…” of denial falls from his lips.

Real Tony takes a step towards the door at the same moment Memory Tony leaps forward to catch Peter when his legs buckle, but he freezes an instant later to continue watching the memory, unable to look away for a second.

“You’re all right,” Memory Tony murmurs, tucking Peter’s head into his shoulder and squeezing him tight.

“I don’t… I don’t know what’s happening…”

May’s eyes burn and there’s no air in her lungs, but her entire being is so focused on the memory that nothing else is worth even a split second of her time.

“I don’t want go. I don’t wanna go. Mr Stark, please… sir… Please. I don’t wanna go.”

The Peter wrapped in Tony’s arms becomes a blur through the film of tears covering her eyes, and the desperate gasps disappear into white noise as his body starts to disintegrate. _Her child’s body starts to disintegrate_.

“I don’t wanna go,” he cries again, but softer this time and already his legs and arms are dust.

She blinks, finally, the tears leaking from her eyes just soon enough for her to catch one last look at his pallid, heartrending face as he locks eyes on Tony.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

The memories go black.

 

There’s a crushing silence when it’s over, the moment completely frozen in time until Peter crashes to the floor with a soul-destroying shriek, his hands barely catching him before his face can smash into the minimally padded floor.

He tucks his hands in around himself once more, letting his forehead drop to the ground and wails.

The two of them move at once. Tony’s closest to the door and almost wrenches it from it’s frame to get out quicker.

They’re halfway to him when his cries change just enough to form a word, then another.

“Tony,” he cries.

“Dad.”

And May stops, letting Tony sweep him into his arms and rock him back and forth while whispering soothing sounds directly into his ear.

She isn’t jealous, she feels nothing but relief towards Tony, because how can she be mad when the man holding her boy had held him right up to the end.

How can she be mad when he is what Peter needs just now.

She’s thankful.

 

 

 

(May takes two things from the memories Peter had relived for them. Firstly, Thanos is more terrifying than she’d ever imagined, she can only hope most of his strength comes from the Infinity Stones he’d already collected… but more importantly, she’d watched as a rag-tag group of heroes with about an hour to plan had damn near beaten him.

With her boy pulling them all together and organising their attack…

Thanos won’t know what hit him.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drax was so hard, he was like hardly in this but I struggled so much haha
> 
> Next chapter should have more reactions since I kicked Ned and MJ out in this one...
> 
> Leave a comment if you have time, your anxious author thrives on them!


	19. Breathe, then Weep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team's reactions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I was honestly blown away by your response to the last chapter! I know it was much anticipated, but I got almost 100 comments!! I can’t even! Thank you so so much! I hope the reactions in this chapter are also what you were hoping for.
> 
> A quick note, time travel fics are a much used trope, so obviously I don’t claim any form of ownership over the idea, but if anyone wants to use any of my specific ideas, please talk to me first, as a courtesy if nothing else but mostly because I’d like to see how other people can use things I thought of in different ways ^_^

There’s a strange weight hanging on everyone’s shoulders that grows the longer they wait for any word from Tony, Peter or May. The kid’s two friends had reappeared, ashen-faced and silent, and then confessed they hadn’t seen the ending of the fight yet.

That had been four hours ago.

They’d spent the morning together, those with the skills required working on analysing the magic Doctor Strange had used to try to create a machine to harness and boost the power, the others pulled in to a solemn game of poker by Darcy.

There’d been no excited chatter between the group slowly becoming friends though. Despite all their work so far, there’d been a slightly… relaxed manner about their work until now, a small thought hovering at the edge of each of their brains’ saying ‘Maybe this isn’t even real, maybe the kid is just crazy.’

There’s a small hope that the memories Peter provides will prove this, or at least reveal it’s not as bad as he had said.

But it’s a very small hope, because it’s impossible not to trust the kid.

By lunch their nerves are wrung so raw that they all wordlessly agree to go their own way until they can watch what happened, rather than sit with each other in uncomfortable silence.

T’Challa retires to his suite, with Shuri following meekly to curl up in one of the squishy recliners. It’s like someone’s finally found her mute button, and T’Challa can’t help but admit to himself that he hates it.

They work silently on their own things.

It’s a little before 6pm when F.R.I.D.A.Y. suddenly breaks the heavy atmosphere in the room with an announcement.

“Mr Stark has now made the B.A.R.F. files accessible for those in the compound. Please view them at your own discretion. Mr Stark, Mr Parker and Mrs Parker will not be available for the rest of the night.”

“Please load them, Miss F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” he requests with a glance to Shuri who’s sitting upright again with a serious frown on her face.

“Right away, King T’Challa,” the A.I. replies, for once not even trying to convince him that a ‘Miss’ isn’t required for her as she does not truly have a gender or any social standing to be reflected.

Instead they dive straight into the images.

T’Challa hadn’t really met Peter before all this. During the fight in Germany they’d both been too busy with their opponents, and he had disappeared soon after to try to track down Rogers and Barnes for revenge. And since all that had finished, he’d been rather busy, either ruling his country or defending it. (The thought brings back the painful memory of holding Erik as the sun set, but he pushes it back firmly, now is not the time.)

And now, since arriving here in response to Tony’s call, he’d got to know a solemn, serious young man with a lot of trauma to work through.

It’s a startling shock to see how different he is at the start, when the depth of the situation isn’t clear yet. He might be a super-powered, genetically-altered human that can swing into a fight again extra terrestrials at the drop of a hat, but he does it with witty quips and the honest desire to help however he can. It’s too similar to Shuri’s teenage exuberance.

The quips get fewer and fewer as the memories progress; it’s almost as if he’s watching the boy’s childhood be ripped away.

He reaches out an arm for Shuri, now settled on the bed beside him, for a hug when the heroes on Titan start to disintegrate. Shuri begins to weep at his side, but she doesn’t take her eyes off the hologram. T’Challa’s own eyes start to burn, but he stays resolutely silent and still, not wanting to miss a moment because it’s a personal memory that the boy, that Peter has relived earlier that day for him to watch and he will not disparage his effort.

His resolve wavers then shatters completely when the scene turns deeply personal, and he can’t help letting his head drop, eyes looking to the floor when Tony catches the kid.

Even without watching, the words spoken between them still wash over him and he prays for the memory to end faster; the sooner it’s over, the sooner he–

“Pause,” Shuri demands suddenly, and he can’t help glance up in shock, only for his eyes to catch on the sight of Peter cradled in Tony’s arms.

“Shuri, wha-”

“We are Wakandan, brother,” she growls fiercely, her brown eyes burning with anger through the film of tears. “You will show your respect and watch this through to the end.”

Tears slip freely down her face, but her jaw is set and brow furrowed until he nods in acceptance.

His fists clench helplessly and his teeth sink painfully into his lower lip as he turns back to face the memory once more.

If he has to bite through his own flesh to watch this, then so be it.

“Please finish the memory, F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” Shuri says, all the strength and fire gone from her voice, leaving it quivering and soft again.

The last ten seconds are almost the longest of his life, second only to those following the bombing at the U.N. conference.

When it finally finishes, Shuri collapses into him, fingers clenched into his tunic, and she howls.

He holds her tightly, a silent protector for the next hour until she cries herself to exhaustion and sleeps.

He’s still awake when she stirs three hours later, long past sunset. He silently fiddles with his kimoyo beads until a holographic image of their mama, for once rumpled from sleep, appears with an irritated look that vanishes when she sees her two children cuddled together yet lost.

“Mama,” Shuri says to her, helplessly, and they both slowly relax then succumb to sleep to the soft croons of her voice.

 

* * *

 

Several rooms away, Vision finishes watching the memories with a troubled expression. The other five infinity stones… seeing them had left him feeling lost, drifting away from the identity he’d created for himself into a galaxy of tumultuous emotions.

He’s a being created from one of those very stones, his whole existence is intertwined with them.

And yet, they can cause so much suffering and pain.

No matter what Peter had said, Vision can see no silver lining in the time between Thanos leaving Titan and killing half the universe. The team Peter had been in had fought him for perhaps fifteen minutes in total with none of the resources anyone on Earth would have had. In contrast, five minutes is nothing. They can only hope and guess that Thanos had manipulated the timeline to hasten his victory, otherwise he might be too powerful with five of the six stones for any of them to defeat.

No. They must stop Thanos from even acquiring all six stones, from the possibility of his genocide even existing.

And he cannot deny that the best way to achieve that is clear.

 

* * *

 

Jane and Darcy might have God of Thunder-shaped experience when it comes to superheroes and world-saving, but the adrenaline and thrill that comes with saving the world, and the giddy sense of suspended believe that follows when all is said and done is a world away from the heart-shaped holes that bleed sluggishly from their chests.

Darcy, unsurprisingly, is a loud crier, bawling endlessly, loud enough for most of the compound to hear. Jane can only release small, gasping hiccoughs.

There’s no remedy for the hurt they feel, but holding each other until exhaustion pulls them into sleep is a band aid at least.

(And when Jane wakes up at 4am the next morning, she’s full of an unyielding determination as she powers up her StarkPad to look through the energy signatures from Doctor Strange’s magic and unwilling to rest until she can understand it completely.)

 

* * *

 

Steven Strange is minorly aggrieved when he picks up his phone to find a message from Tony Stark, not because of the content of the message, but because he _had not given that man his phone number._

But phone numbers probably mean very little when you own the company that makes the phones and designed them yourself, he would guess.

 _‘Memories are done’_ is all the message says but it’s enough to get him opening a portal right back to the meeting room of the compound. There’s nobody there, so he beckons Wong through behind him.

“You couldn’t have just given me the SparkNotes version?” he asks, but looks around the room curiously before taking the seat at the head of the table.

“You’ve been complaining that you’re left out since this started; just watch the videos,” Doctor Strange groans, choosing to lean against the wall rather than taking a seat.

“Hello,” Stark’s A.I. says suddenly from the ceiling, and he’d find it annoying if not for the way Wong jumps to his feet, eyes darting in every direction to find the source of the voice.

“Hello, F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” he replies.

“Who is your friend, Doctor Strange? Is he also a wizard?” she asks with innocent curiosity that must be fake, but since she’s a robot, it sounds entirely sincere.

“This is Wong, a member of my group. Wong, F.R.I.D.A.Y., Tony Stark’s A.I.” he gestures from Wong to the ceiling with minimal patience. “Could you show us the recordings Stark mentioned?”

“I am sorry, Doctor Strange,” she says, making his brow crease with confusion, “However before I can show you anything, I am required to fulfil the ‘I’m a what?’ protocol upon first contact with another wizard, to further our knowledge of magical beings.”

“Please don’t tell me…” he groans, thumping his head back against the wall.

“First question, Mr Wong – during your time at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, which of the four houses were you sorted into?”

Wong looks baffled, “Hogmorts School of what?”

“Witchcraft and Wizardry,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. confirms. “Which of the four houses did you belong to? _By Gryffindor, the bravest were prized far beyond the rest; for Ravenclaw, the cleverest would always be the_ -”

“This is absolutely ridiculous,” Doctor Strange mutters under his breath, “He was a Hufflepuff!” he shouts over F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s recitation.

The A.I. pauses, as if deliberating whether to accept his answer over a response from Wong. “Thank you, Doctor Strange,” she says finally. “Mr Wong, question number two: What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

The poor man looks even more flustered than when Doctor Strange purposefully winds him up.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. he can’t answer your questions,” Doctor Strange informs her irritably, “Can you just show us the recording?”

“I am sorry, Doctor Strange, but the protocol requires that I complete all of the questions before I can fulfil any other demands.”

He growls under his breath at the sheer frustration that working alongside Tony Stark causes him before coming to a realisation, “Neither of us went to Hogwarts, we both were trained privately in Nepal. Does that answer your questions?”

F.R.I.D.A.Y. pauses again, as if she were a real human scanning down the list of questions rather than a machine who could assess them in a microsecond. “I will provide your feedback to Mr Stark, here are the recordings you requested.”

She falls silent as the holographic display springs to life over the table.

They both watch silently, Wong pensively assessing the situation, and Doctor Strange with a clenched jaw as he watches himself be kidnapped and then require the assistance of Stark and Parker to escape.

“You gave him the stone,” Wong points out needlessly, voice taut with anger.

Doctor Strange doesn’t respond since they both clearly saw the same thing.

Watching himself die is a situation he hadn’t entirely prepared himself for, even with the experience of seeing his own body flatline on an operating table under his belt. Apparently his brain differentiates quite drastically between flatlining and crumbling to pieces.

He’s just thankful his own death isn’t as dramatic as the kid’s. It definitely doesn’t even touch his heartstrings, let alone tug at them, not in the slightest.

“Any idea why you gave up the stone?” Wong asks when the video ends, voice surprisingly thick and he quickly clears his throat to try to sound normal again.

“No,” he admits, “I can only guess that’s what he saw he had to do.” He refers to future Doctor Strange as ‘he’ because it’s too weird and confusing to say ‘I’ for something he hasn’t done.

“Any idea what he saw in that one future?” Wong presses again.

“No.”

“Any idea how the stone sent the kid back in time without you controlling it? And I swear, if you say-”

“No.” He flicks back through the video, pausing to analyse a few still images as he does. “We can’t even be certain it was the stone, or that it was me controlling it.  I didn’t have it when Parker was thrown back in time, so for all we know it could have been Thanos.”

Wong sits silently at that declaration, and they lapse into silence for several minutes.

“Poor kid,” he finally says and Doctor Strange finds just enough care to offer a small shrug.

“You know this would be a lot easier if you’d just _told them_ what they needed to do to beat Thanos, then we wouldn’t even be in this situation,” Wong says critically a few minutes later.

“I presume there was some requirement for the victory that stopped me from mentioning it,” Doctor Strange explains, excusing himself from the criticism before sighing, “But yes, it would have been so much easier…”

Wong turns to look at him, eyes slightly wide with shock at his admission before he manages a small smirk, “I’ve never wanted to punch you in the face as much as right now.”

“Honestly?” Doctor Strange asks, “Me too.”

“You know if you made a portal, you could definitely punch yourself in the face,” he says with a serious expression.

Doctor Strange chuckles, and Wong joins in a few seconds later.

“I’ll bear that in mind.”

 

* * *

 

“Miss Potts,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. announces very suddenly in the middle of an important meeting, something she’s never done before. “The files you have been waiting for are now available.”

The resigned irritation that prickles along her skin with the assumption that Tony has done something stupid again vanishes the instant she realises the message is about Peter.

She quickly stands, almost knocking her chair backwards in her rush.

She makes it to the door of the room before someone calls her name, reminding her of the other board members still sitting at the table, looking perplexed by her unusual behaviour.

“I am very sorry, however something urgent has come to my attention and I must deal with this now; I’m afraid I’ll have to postpone the rest of the meeting until a later time.”

She’s out the door, ignoring Mr Mather’s bumbling cry of “But the budget!” as Happy slinks into place behind her.

“I think that’s the first time you’ve skipped out on a meeting, what will Tony say when he hears about this,” Happy teases.

“Don’t you dare tell him a thing, Happy Hogan. He’d be insufferably proud and never let me live it down.”

Happy chuckles as they step into the elevator and she can’t help a small smile in response, though it fades quickly when she thinks of what’s waiting for her in her office.

“Besides, this is…”

Happy falls silent too, “the kid, yeah.”

The elevator doors slide silently open to her office. Already, F.R.I.D.A.Y. has pulled the metal shutters over the expansive windows, and she can hear the faintest whir of the elevator cables lowering it further down into the building again.

“Are we clear, F.R.I.?” she asks as she takes a seat on one of the couches, Happy falling into the cushions beside her instead of standing behind like he normally would – with F.R.I.D.A.Y. securing the room, there’s no chance of anything short of a missile getting in.

“I do not detect any listening devices or similar surveillance equipment. The security camera for this room has been deactivated for the next twenty minutes, Miss Potts.”

“Can you play the recording?”

An image appears suspended in the centre of the room, an image of a bus filled with school children, the rambunctious expressions on their faces frozen when F.R.I.D.A.Y. doesn’t immediately start the video.

“Mr Stark has stipulated that the recording can only be viewed once outside of the compound. I will erase this copy from existence immediately after it has finished and to view it again in the future you will need to be on site,” she informs them and Pepper isn’t at all surprised by the safety measures Tony has created for this.

“That’s fine, F.R.I.D.A.Y., please play the recording.”

The image still does not move.

“Miss Potts, it would be my suggestion for you to retrieve the box of tissues from your desk before we begin.”

Even the A.I. sounds concerned and Pepper’s throat tightens with fear and anxiety for what she’s about to watch. Happy pats her gently on the leg and levers himself up, swiping the box from the desk and placing it carefully between them.

The video starts.

She’s weeping uncontrollably by the end, chest heaving with great gasps of breath that don’t seem to fill her lungs no matter how hard she tries.

Happy’s a solemn figure beside her, jaw clenched and a torrent of tears dripping silently down his cheeks and off his chin. He’d taken one tissue then given up.

As the memories finish, he wraps an arm around her shoulder and pulls her into him without a word.

“Both of – both of them, H-Happy!” she wails, “Wh-Why are b-b-both of them like th-that? It’s bad – enough with T-T-Tony. And T-Tony, at the e-en… at the end! Hi-hi-his f-face! How am I m-meant to k-k-keep them safe?!”

Happy smooths her hair down, trying to think of the best response when they’re both so useless in the face of super-powered aliens.

“Maybe we don’t have super-strength, or crazy powers, or even science,” he mumbles, his eyes staring at an abstract painting hanging on the office’s wall hazily, “But I think he’s got enough people with those skills right now. All we can do is keep doing what we have, be even better at it, even, cause we’ve been here with Tony until now and I get the feeling that that’s… all he wants.”

Pepper is quite for a moment, then gives a loud sniffle and a long sigh, finally starting to breathe normally again, “That was really nice, Happy. Thank you.”

He flushes and quickly wipes the last few tears from his eyes too as she starts to sit up again to look at him.

“I still think the kid’s super annoying,” he blusters, “It’s a shame he’s going to be around so much more. I think I’m actually overdue a vacation.”

Pepper chuckles and even though her eyes are red and her throat is raw, it’s a nice sound to hear again as she takes one last tissue to wipe her eyes.

“There is one possibly good thing from this though,” Happy says, once she’s started to pull her professional aura back in place. She gives him a questioning look, clearly wondering how he’d found anything good in the recording. “Looks like you’re going to be a step-mum to a really annoying fifteen year old.”

He laughs at his own joke, then pauses when he realises Pepper isn’t laughing too, not even another chuckle.

Instead she’s smiling softly, a tender look in her eyes, “Maybe that wouldn’t be too bad,” she whispers.

“Ugh, not you too,” he groans and this time she does laugh.

 

* * *

 

The four of them are crashed out on the couches after a summer barbeque in the yard. Cooper, approaching his teenage years quickly, has already disappeared to his room.

He’s not expecting anything else to happen that evening, nothing really has happened since he accepted the terms, including house arrest, of his release. There are people watching the house, he knows it, Laura knows it, and the kids all know that something’s wrong, It breaks his heart when Lila tells him one evening that something must be wrong because he’s been around too much.

But perhaps they’re all getting more used to his presence now and, with his house arrest nowhere near finished, it’s just as well. Not that he has any plans to run off again when it is over, he came out of retirement once as a favour to Cap (and Pietro) and look how that turned out. He’s done.

So it comes as a surprise when there’s the sound of something tiny creeping under the door of the house. He stiffens imperceptibly, then excuses himself to the kitchen for a drink, conveniently passing the doorway in time to see the smallest of drones hovering at eye-level, clearly waiting for him.

There’s only one person he can think of that would send him a tiny robot, and the very thought makes him pause. He hadn’t seen Stark since the arrangements were made for his plea deal, but his stay on the raft hadn’t left him with the fuzziest of feelings…

He could just crush it.

He reaches out a hand, slowly raising it towards the drone with his palm open.

The robotic fly drops into it and a second later his fist closes.

The tiny drone is tucked safely inside as he heads into the kitchen, taking a glass from the cabinet and filling it with water before taking a seat at the table with a tired sigh.

The drone slips between his fingers, landing on the table and with the quietest of clicks, it’s back opens to reveal a tiny compartment filled with liquid.

And a single contact lens.

Maybe Stark’s getting a bit better at the spy business, he thinks as he discreetly scoops it up and then drops his head into his hands to slip it into his eye without anyone noticing.

There’s a video, of course there is, and Stark’s face is being projected directly into his eye.

“Legolas, it’s been a while,” the video starts with subtitles, showing a Tony who looks much more tired than he had even during the Ultron fiasco or the Accords. Clearly something major is about to go down. “So just a short introduction before you see the videos themselves, but everything you’re going to see is from six months in the future, yeah we’ve seen stranger things so hope you don’t get too hung up on the technicalities. Remember that Spider-kid I brought to Berlin? They’re his memories. And… well, you’ll see but we’re going to need everyone for this, so start working off those retirement-pounds, alright? Subtly of course, don’t want anyone to get wind that I’m sending out invitations when they’re not invited to the party. Not yet at least.” He falls silent, mouth pinched in a way that Clint remembers from those few times that Tony had admitted he was wrong, or had to ask for help. “What happened with the Accords… I don’t regret it, I did what I thought was right. But… I am sorry for what happened to you. There, I said it, I did my part, now we need to put everything that happened behind us. Please. I need help. For… for my kid. And for your kids. Please just…” he doesn’t finish the sentence, just stares desperately at Clint from the tiny lens and then seemingly pulls himself back together, straightening his shoulders and smoothing out the lines of his suit unnecessarily. “The lens will dissolve in three hours without any issues. See you in a few months, Barton.”

And like that, the glossy eyed Tony Stark disappears and is replaced by the interior of a school bus.

_Shit, how young is that kid?_

An hour later he finally leaves the kitchen. Laura gives him a searching look but he barely notices, falling to the floor in front of Lila and Nathaniel and pulling them into his arms.

He’ll give Cooper a hug later too, then hold Laura tight for the rest of the night.

In the morning, he’ll get started.

 

* * *

 

They’re taking breakfast with the Queen Mother, Ramonda, who looks less rested than usual, when one of her kimoyo beads glows. She glances over a message, then looks directly up at Steve, holding his gaze gravely.

“This is for all of you to see,” she tells them. “I imagine it is the cause of my children waking me during the night, and if something affects them so badly, I can only imagine it does not have a pleasant ending.”

They all know what it is in an instant – the kid’s memories.

Breakfast is put to one side.

Despite their differences, he’d trusted Tony’s trust in the kid, but seeing is believing, and he wished he didn’t now. The whole video had set Steve’s blood burning and his skin itching; partly because of the seriousness of the situation, but more so because he _hadn’t been in any of it_.

He’d been waiting, this whole time, for Tony to call, to show he was ready to start working past the rift between them. But Tony hadn’t called, at least not until this turn of events. Had he ever called, in the world Peter came back from? Had the whole world been on the brink of destruction and Tony still hadn’t trusted him enough to ask for help?

He doesn’t think so, or at least he hopes not, because no matter their differences, both of them would put the world before themselves in a heartbeat. And in the memories, everything had happened so fast, he can only hope that he was involved in the fight to protect the Mind Stone from Thanos, for all the good it did, at least then he’d have been some use.

He turns to look at his group, or the remains of it, scattered around the room. Natasha’s face is completely closed off, whatever she’s thinking, she doesn’t want anyone to know.

Wanda is inconsolable, he wonders if she’s drawing parallels with her brother. Strands of red flicker aimlessly around her hands which are curled into Sam’s shirt, clearly doing no damage; he doubts she even realises she’s doing anything.

He turns to the last member of the group and, despite the seriousness of the situation, and the traumatic nature of the memories, something in Steve’s heart warms when he sees the focus in Bucky’s dark eyes. It’s a look he’s only ever seen directed at himself before, particularly before he was given the serum, but with a cold edge that comes entirely from the Winter Soldier; the drive and determination to protect someone he views as requiring a guard, no matter what the cost.

Bucky glances back at him, his face still set in a frown, but his voice soft, “Reminds me of a scrawny kid I used to know from Brooklyn.”

Steve manages a small smile; he can see why Tony trusts the kid so much.

 

* * *

 

Ned and MJ watch the last memory in Ned’s room, surrounded by lego and games and homework, the staples of his teenage life.

Ned knew, theoretically, that being the Spider-Man was a high risk occupation. He’d seen Delmar’s in person, and all the news reports about the Stark plane crash on Coney Island, but Peter had only been in contact through text for the days following that, and when he’d reappeared he’d looked none the worse for wear, and ‘got a building dropped on me’ was only a passing remark, so Ned had just assumed it wasn’t as serious as it sounds (it definitely was cool though!)

The video tears the glamour away. Already watching him fight for his life, and half of the universe, had opened his eyes to the dangers, but there’s no bigger wake up call than watching… that.

He blubbers, he hates to cry because he is loud, and his face screws up like a baby, the ugliest crying he’s ever seen, but he can’t help it now. This isn’t a Disney movie which breaks your heart but ends on a high note, it’s real and the shaky, nervous Peter that he’d been introduced to the day before was stuck dealing with the results.

He doesn’t know if Peter even realises how much he’s changed. Sure, he’d laughed and joked as they started piecing together Avengers Tower, but he’d get a dark, distant look in his eyes every few minutes that Ned could only fight off by being louder and stupider than ever.

When he’d had the brainwave for reaching Asgard he’d been, quite frankly, terrifying. Everything else had fallen away and all that mattered was the goal he was chasing. The way he’d fallen in so easily with Tony Stark, Jane Foster and Princess Shuri was awesome, but the desperation in his face as they poured over the data was tragic.

Peter had always lived for science, the joy of experiments and understanding the world, but never before had he looked so honestly as if he’d die if it weren’t there to support him.

And now all Ned can think about is Peter’s ashen face twisted in pain as his body collapses.

He doesn’t even feel embarrassed about the way he collapses completely into MJ, clinging to her for something to hold onto.

 

MJ is a stone, not because she doesn’t feel but because she _can’t feel_. There’s nothing, no pain or sorrow or anguish, just emptiness.

She wonders if she will dream of electric sheep.

Surely there should be some response, some emotional representation of pain from watching her friend die?

Tears. Or anger. Or resolve.

There’s nothing.

(The pain will start the next morning, when she wakes with tears already streaming down her face and the bloody chasm where her heart once lived radiating pain through her entire being. For the night, she feels nothing.)

 

* * *

 

“Motherfucker.”

 

* * *

 

Tony sits in his bed that night, a StarkPad propped up in his lap on its dimmest setting that he scrolls through with one hand while the other brushes softly through Peter’s hair. Pepper hasn’t finished at the office yet, but she’d sent him a message verging on threatening telling him to take care of his son with everything he has.

_His son._

Pepper had said it too. Without even the slightest hesitation or reprobation.

His son.

His son who’d called for him, for Tony, after reliving the worst day of his life to help them. Whom he’d held tight against his chest for nearly half an hour until the panic-driven tears were soothed out of him. Who had sat, glassy eyed, between Tony and his aunt as Dr Moors talked him through short-term methods to deal with the panic and fear until they can figure out longer, more concrete solutions in later sessions.

Who had eaten when Tony gently asked him to, and has anxiously asked in return to stay with Tony again for the night.

Yeah, Peter is his son alright, anyone who tries to deny that can fight him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the reactions! Let me know whose you liked most! Sorry that I couldn’t get everyone in…


	20. Breathe, then Forgive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter starts moving forward. Tony does too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late, I had a lot of confusion about where exactly to go next and how to proceed through the next few parts of the story but I think I've got it sorted now!  
> Also my school's culture festival is next week and I've done a 50+ hour week trying to get my students to do everything they need for it when they're 0% motivated T^T  
> But now it's the weekend! Huzzah!!
> 
> Thank you for all the incredible comments on the last chapter! I love you guys so much!

Peter emerges the next morning for breakfast surrounded by Tony, Pepper and May, in a slightly oversized M.I.T. hoodie that engulfs his hands and stretches down to his mid-thigh.

The rest of the group, lacking any tact, freeze and watch as he takes a cautious seat, not meeting anyone’s eyes, until MJ loudly continues to pile fruit onto her plate and they remember how to be considerate human beings.

He glances up at her, then again for longer when he catches her self-conscious smile and offers his own in return. It’s a bit awkward, but he feels a bit of his small supply of confidence return.

“So, um,” his voice breaks on the first word, making him flush in embarrassment, but the mood at the table is thankfully too solemn for anyone to laugh, “You’ve all probably watched the video, so now we’re on the same page we can, uh, just get back to the plan…”

Jane speaks up with sudden fervour before he can flounder, trying to think of exact instructions for the group, “I was working on it during the night, and I think I’ve picked up a similarity between Doctor Strange’s portal and the energy released when Thor arrived on Earth,” she says, holding up a StarkPad to show them the exact energy wave she’s talking about. “If we can find the same parallels in the portal created by the Tesseract, it’s likely it is related to interstellar passage and perhaps we can isolate it as part of the energy source to amplify Doctor Strange’s magic?”

The sheer enthusiasm with which she explains her finding is contagious, and Peter leans across the table to check her finding while Tony is already pulling out his own StarkPad, from who knows where, to pull up the data for himself.

A hand in the hood of his sweatshirt pulls him back, then swiftly pulls the tablet straight out of Tony’s hands, “Breakfast first, science later,” Pepper demands in a voice that suggests it’s not the first time she’s said those exact words.

“Yes, mom,” Tony replies snarkily with a grin at Peter only to wince when the StarkPad smacks him in the head.

“Be careful or you’ll be getting a ‘no’ when you finally man up and pop the question, Rhodey’s been begging me to elope with him, we’d move to the Canary Islands and spend the rest of our lives without anyone threatening to destroy the world.”

Rhodey, who’d been innocently eating his cereal, sprays milk and a few small pieces of food over Darcy’s magazine, “Don’t bring me into your crazy drama, I’m just here to sit back and watch.”

Tony, apparently, doesn’t care for his protests, “Maybe I’ll elope with Rhodey first. We’ll run off to Massachusetts and relive our glory days with the kid.” He pauses, “Ok that sounded completely wrong…”

“Actually,” Peter butts in with a small but devious smirk, “Shuri mentioned the university in Wakanda and I was wondering…” he trails off at Tony’s devastated expression, glances at Shuri then the two of them burst out laughing.

“As welcome as you are to visit my country, Peter,” T’Challa starts once they’ve calmed down again, “I don’t think I could cope with double the trouble on a full-time basis.”

Shuri smacks him with the spoon straight out of her mouth and the disgusted expression looks so at odds on the King’s face that Peter can’t help laughing again.

He feels warm. He may have gone through something awful, but with the extra time he has, and the people sitting around the table ready and willing to fight Thanos, well, there’s a small spark of hope in his chest now.

 

 

Tony leads the group towards a different, more spacious room once breakfast is finished, and the reason for the change is clear from the moment that they walk in.

There, in the middle of the room, looking statuesque with his straight back and broad shoulders, is Captain Rogers, the rest of his team spaced evenly behind. Peter isn’t sure if there’s some spatial limit to the hologram system, or they’re standing close together as a defensive tactic even in the place they once called home. For a moment, Peter worries about whether he will get along with the man if there’s still some bad blood between the two sides, but then his gaze shifts to Tony and he manages a small, tight smile as a lot of the tension drains from his posture.

“Tony,” he says and there is definite warmth in his voice that settles the last of Peter’s nerves.

“Steve,” Tony replies, a bit colder, but he follows with a teasing, “Still can’t afford a razor for that stubble? Or have they not been invented yet in Wakanda?”

T’Challa huffs good naturedly, knocking shoulders with Tony as he moves further into the room

(“I’ll show him Wakandan tech when I shave that stupid goatee off his face,” Shuri mutters darkly under her breath.)

Cap lets the taunt be with a single huff of laughter, turning his focus to Peter instead, “Peter Parker, the kid from Queens… Nice to finally be seeing you face to face, or as close was we can for now.”

“Same to you, Captain. No, um, hard feelings about the thing with the shield, right?”

“None at all, you pack a good punch, kid. But you, uh, don’t need to call me Captain, alright?”

This is for sure one of the coolest moments of Peter’s life, talking so casually with Captain America – behind those with Tony of course, and perhaps when he discovered his own powers – and Ned is right behind him, to reassure him this all happened later. Maybe he can get the footage from F.R.I.D.A.Y. and save it to show his grandkids? Just play it cool for a few more minutes…

“Sure thing, Mr America.”

His mouth drops open in shock but no words come out. The whole room is staring at him, taking several seconds to comprehend just how embarrassing his life is.

“Kill me now.”

Tony snickers and then everyone except Peter and, thankfully, Mr Rogers, cracks up. The first avenger gives him an understanding smile, glancing at the people around them, as if to say ‘Still the same, huh?’ and Peter thinks that, yeah, maybe they can get along ok after all.

 

 

There’s the briefest of discussions about the memories, thankfully not requiring any input from Peter, allowing him to shift a bit closer and brush elbows with Tony before the conversation quickly moves on to their plan of attack.

“So, we’re going to combine Doctor Strange with arc technology, and stick some memories of Asgard in and abracadabra, a portal to Asgard! Might need Wanda’s help with the memory part but with a bit of luck we should be able to get in touch with Thor. Jane says there’s an ‘all-seeing’ dude over there too, so maybe he can get a lock on Bruce, wherever he’s ended up? Pretty sure we’re on the right tracks with a machine to amplify the portal’s power, just depends if your hocus pocus will do its part,” he says with a pointed look at the resident sorcerer.

Doctor Strange just rolls his eyes, and only Peter hears the muttered “ _Mystic Arts_.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Natasha says, the very slightest hint of approval in the words, which Peter takes as being the equivalent of a standing ovation from her.

Steve nods in agreement, offering Tony another small, fragile smile, “Nice work, Tony.”

“Hey, I didn’t bring all these pretty faces around just to marvel at my incredible talents,” he says with a cocky smirk. “While I won’t deny that I’m pretty astounding, it was a team effort to get the plan this far, we all helped.”

“Besides,” Darcy cuts in, “It was Peter who came up with the plan in the first place. Team Parker for the win!”

Peter flushes, then gawks at the new team name but the conversation continues before he can object.

“So, the kid’s strong _and_ smart?” Sam asks incredulously, before his voice takes on a snide edge, “You’d better watch out Stark, he might give you a run for your money soon.”

Tony’s arm wraps comfortably around his shoulders, pulling him into his side and giving him a small shake, “You’re definitely right, but what would you expect with my kid?”

It’s a sign of how quickly things have changed, and how naturally their newer relationship has fallen into place, that nobody on his side of the world blinks at the declaration, not even Peter whose heart still skips a beat whenever Tony says something like that.

The group half a world away, however, varies. Natasha’s eyes just widen almost imperceptibly, while the kimoyo beads Wanda’s been fiddling with drop to the floor and scatter in every direction, sending a ghost marble straight through Peter’s feet. (Shuri groans in despair.)

Steve just smiles, and it’s a degree warmer this time.

“So, if that part of the plan is all set, what do you want us to do in the mean time?” Natasha asks, her face once again a porcelain mask.

“We need tactics for fighting Thanos. Strategies for whatever the circumstances might be when we come across him,” Rhodey answers. “Hopefully it’ll be before he has all the stones, but we need to-”

“I would like to make a suggestion, if I may?” Vision suddenly cuts in from the furthest corner of the room, and it suddenly occurs to Peter that he’s been almost hiding this whole time, he didn’t even come in with the whole group.

The Wakandan group of Avengers certainly hadn’t noticed him, as they all spin swiftly as he steps forward, Wanda even taking a half step towards him before settling in place.

“It occurred to me while watching Mr Parker’s recollections,” he begins, gazing around the room without actually seeing any of them, “That Thanos’s greatest strength is his greatest weakness. We have two of the infinity stones in this very room,” he says with a nod to Doctor Strange, whose hand reaches automatically to the pendent around his neck, “And we’re making plans to go to the location of a third.”

“You’re saying we should use the power of the stones against Thanos?” Shuri asks, eagerly.

Vision spares her a bemused glance before looking back towards the holograms, “I’m saying that we should destroy the stones while we have the chance.”

The holographic group and Tony, the core group of the Avengers, flinch back as if slapped, while Doctor Strange takes a threatening step forward.

“The Eye of Agamotto has been held by the Masters of the Mystic Arts since our very founding, to destroy an artefact so central to our-”

“You told me yesterday, Doctor Strange, that the Masters of the Mystic Arts exist for the sole purpose of protecting the Earth from mystic threats. Thanos might not be mystical in nature, but you cannot deny he is a threat. If destroying the Time Stone protects the Earth, is it not your duty to do so?”

There’s a pregnant pause as Vision waits patiently to be refuted, but eventually Doctor Strange steps back again with an angry yet pensive frown.

“Vision, you…”

He holds up a hand to halt Wanda before she can say any more.

“Please let me finish first,” he asks and she reluctantly nods in acceptance. “As I was saying, in terms of pre-emptive measures, I believe destroying the stones to be our best option, it would guarantee as even a playing field as possible if neither side were in possession of a stone. However, from the information Mr Parker was able to provide, it appears that Thanos was already in possession of four stones upon his arrival at Titan, three of which it was suggested he had just recently acquired. In such a situation, having Infinity Stones on our side as well can only be a boon, provided we actually _use_ them as and when necessary. But this still leaves the risk of Thanos once more defeating us and taking the stones for himself, which is precisely what Mr Parker is here to prevent. The best solution I have been able to derive from the current data is to destroy _one_ of the stones, preventing Thanos from being able to unite all six.”

 Peter’s eyes widen with inspired delight at the ridiculous simplicity of the idea, already starting to dissect the idea in a mumble under his breath until Vision continues.

“The ideal stone to destroy would be the soul stone, but without even the slightest hint of its location, and additionally the suggestion that it might require a sacrifice to obtain, we will have to settle for another stone. Of those within our potential grasp, clearly the Space Stone is the best option, as it requires an excessively large power source to activate, one that will not be easily within the human race’s capabilities for the next millennia at least. Additionally, and perhaps there is some unconscious bias in my results, but from my calculations, the Time and Mind stones possess much higher value in terms of contributing to the defeat of Thanos, though I welcome others to run their own evaluations on the matter before a decision is made.”

The room is filled with a buzz, the same charge that filled them when Peter explained his idea for reaching Asgard; a hopeful excitement. A real feeling that at this rate, with each small step forward, they might actually be able to beat Thanos.

If only Vision didn’t have one more point to make.

“However, if we are not able to acquire and destroy the Space Stone, I would like to request every effort is made to destroy the Mind Stone instead. My life is not equivalent to those of half the universe.”

“We don’t trade lives, Vision,” Steve retorts gruffly.

“Then consider that this is not a trade, Captain, it is a gift, from me to the universe.”

The excited buzz hardens into an unyielding determination that settles across the silent room. Peter grits his teeth as the pressure mounts – already one life is depending on their success.

 

 

Discussion of tactics slowly begins, until F.R.I.D.A.Y. announces that lunch is prepared for them, after which Miss Jones and Mr Leeds should be getting back to the city as per the arrangements made with Mr Leeds’ parents.

Peter droops slightly at the news, preparing to troop out of the room with the rest as the Wakanda-based Avengers disappear off-screen until only Steve is left.

“Tony, could you spare a few minutes more before we switch this thing off?” he asks and Peter automatically twists back to check Tony’s expression for any distress.

The sudden about-face is anything but subtle, and Tony glances up at him and offers a reassuring smile, “Why don’t you stick around a bit longer too, Pete? It’s fine if you’d rather spend your time with your friends, but…”

He trails off, clearly uncertain of how to phrase his request without sounding weak. Peter nods to MJ and Ned, the only two left in the room, and Ned gives him a quick shoulder pat, MJ a painful shoulder punch, and follow the rest of the group back to the dining area. Peter trudges back to stand in front of the hologram at the centre of the room.

“There’s someone else who’d like to speak with you for a few minutes, if that’s ok with you?” Steve asks, his voice soft and tentative, as if speaking to a frightened child.

Tony nods, and Peter can actually hear his teeth grating against each other. He instinctively reaches out, wrapping a hand around Tony’s wrist loosely enough for either of them to shift just slightly to wraps their hands around each other.

Mr Barnes steps into sight. There’s a swath of fabric wrapped around the space a metal arm had once occupied.

He looks a lot healthier, and much less haunted, than he had in Berlin. The bags that had been painted under his eyes are gone, and any sunkenness that had sharpened his cheeks bones has filled out. His hair looks much softer, the change comparable to the difference between Strider the Ranger and Aragorn the King. There’s still haunted shadows lingering in his eyes, but even they are much less than they were.

Bucky opens his mouth to speak but Tony beats him to the punch, “Let me speak first, I know I talk a lot but I’d like to get some thoughts off my chest before it’s too late.”

Bucky nods, robotically, and really does settle into parade rest, shoulders tense as if awaiting physical blows to be rained down. It takes Peter a moment to realise it’s probably something he’s experienced.

“I loved my mum,” Tony starts, not noticing the shifts in Bucky’s state as his eyes have already drifted away to where a circuit board and a handful of wires are scattered over a desk. “Wasn’t too big on my dad, but I’m working on that. But my mum, she was good, she listened to me and encouraged me when dad wouldn’t. That’s why I never understood why she married him, a man who made weapons to live a comfortable life. Then I went the same way; I took over the business, I improved it; killed more and more, with less and less humanity attached to the decision. A step forward in war but a step back in morals. I still don’t know how many people my weapons killed in the hands of people like the Ten Rings, when Stane started selling to terrorists, but it was a lot and even now I’m sure there’s guns and missiles out there in the wrong hands, with my name on them.”

The three-man audience is completely silent and still as he pauses, clenching his fists and taking a few shallow breaths with his eyes closed to their stares.

“That’s on me. It always will be because I made the choice to make those weapons, to sell them even if I never planned for those people to get them. It took me a long time to come to terms with that. Also took me a long time, and a lot of talks with my therapist, to accept that… you didn’t have that choice; it wasn’t James Barnes that chose to kill my mum and dad that night… So, for what happened in Siberia, I’m sorry.”

Tony still isn’t looking at the two holograms, so Peter does him the favour of staring, then glaring intently at them the longer the pause lasts.

“Thank you,” Bucky finally says, and Peter is taken aback by how gruff and mournful his voice is, yet it suits his rugged appearance. “I… Thank you, for saying that. I can remember… everyone. I wanted to apologise to everyone who lost someone because of me but… Steve said that maybe not everyone would be receptive to the statement ‘Sorry, I was brainwashed by nazis’, so they’re trying to find other ways to help me cope. It’s… hard.”

Steve reaches out a hand without the slightest hesitation, not taking Bucky’s but just offering his own if Bucky wants to take it. He does.

“Once we’re finished with it, I’ll send this B.A.R.F. unit over to you, maybe it will help a bit with learning to deal with what happened,” Tony offers thoughtfully.

“That would be… thank you.”

“It helped me a lot,” Tony admits cautiously, “With a lot of things but especially my parents. If it can help you with the same thing, then it’s the least I can do. You’ll need to be on your A-game if you want to help that hunk of all-American stupidity when Thanos appears,” he says with a nod to Steve who takes the mocking with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

“Thank you,” Bucky says again, then looks away to stare broodingly at the floor. It’s several minutes before he speaks up again.

“I want to protect everyone, including your kid too,” he says with a brusque nod towards Peter. “He reminds me of Steve,” he adds, almost as an afterthought.

Tony sighs, “I know what you mean, a bit too much sometimes.” They share a commiserating glance and, finally, Tony slips his hand up to squeeze Peter’s. “But I’d be very thankful if you did. For what it’s worth I am sorry for what happened in Siberia; I’m glad you stopped me.”

Bucky nods, then seems to flounder, looking to Steve for guidance.

“Let’s leave it there for today,” he says, instantly taking control of the situation again, “The two of you had better get lunch before Peter’s friends leave.” He doesn’t say anything about the two of them but Peter isn’t blind to the way their hands are clenched, knuckles white with the force.

With one last nod, the holographic display fades away, leaving just Peter and Tony standing side by side in the room.

“Tony… what happened in Siberia?” he asks.

The hand in his reflexively twitches, as if to pull away, but the reaction is trampled down before it can be completed.

Tony sighs, and the same shadows that he’d seen in Bucky’s eyes are lingering in his, but he gestures quickly to a chair, not even trying to change Peter’s mind about asking.

“It’s not a very long story, and it shows the worst sides of all of us, particularly me,” he says, taking the seat beside Peter. “It starts when I tracked them down in a HYDRA facility in Siberia, where a bunch more Winter Soldiers were being housed…”

Peter listens.

 

 

Learning the truth of the ‘Civil War’ hangs heavily over Peter when they leave the conference room, but he pushes it as far back in his brain as possible when it’s time for MJ and Ned to leave, promising to come back to visit as soon as they can. He pretends not to notice when Tony hands them each a box containing a horrifically expensive watch, and explains the mechanism that transmits a distress call straight to him if they ever find themselves in trouble. It feels too much like other people are cleaning up the mess he’s made by revealing himself as he had.

He watches longingly as Happy drives them away, Tony and May waiting with him until they disappear from sight.

“Ok,” he says, turning back to the building with a resolute nod.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this, sweetie?” May asks, “You’ve only just started talking to Doctor Moors, if you want more time I can rearrange everything…”

Peter shakes his head, “Everything’s already set up, and they’re waiting for me, right? It’s just one interview, how hard can it be?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the next chapter will take a very short detour into PR and possibly a very small glimpse into the public's reactions!  
> It will also deal a small amount with my opinion on the Civil War conflict, as the end of this chapter did slightly too. A quick reminder for all readers that, despite some of your vocal disappointment, I'm actually Team Cap!!
> 
> Let me know what you think of the chapter! <3
> 
> Oh and I'm working on a IronDad/SpideySon one-shot too; thinking about that helped me keep my writing mojo while I was stuck on this fic. If I focus a bit on it this weekend I might have it finished next week! :D


	21. Breathe, then Charm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, an update a day after the last one? Are we back to the same update schedule that this fic started on, I hear you ask. I very much doubt it, I had pieces of this written a while back and it was very easy to just write responses to questions with a bit of description.  
> The format of this chapter is very different because it's basically a transcript, I hope it's still easy to follow!
> 
> Like I said at the end of the last chapter, this one will also deal a bit with how I feel about Civil War...  
> Also I don't really get in the movies the relationship between Peter and the Accords, shouldn't he have had to sign them?? So I added a super small work around in for my own piece of mind haha.
> 
> Let me know what you think!!

**YouTube**

**Exclusive First Interview with Peter Parker, a.k.a. Spider-Man (and Puppies!)  
** Buzzfeed. Posted 1 day ago, 5.8 million views

_Peter Parker sits on the floor in a stylish living area looking eagerly off-screen. His smile is bright, but there’re the faintest shadows around his eyes, possibly from the lighting set up for the interview. Three people appear in the frame, their faces not visible but in each of their arms, wiggly puppies – a Labrador, a great dane and a pit bull. All three are deposited in his lap and he laughs in delight._

Hi, my name’s Peter Parker and I’m Spider-oomph.  _The pit bull puppy jumps up to lick straight into his mouth as he tries to speak, prompting a spluttering laugh. He pushes it back a bit, looks at the camera again._

I’m Spi-  _The puppy takes it as a challenge. Peter scoops it up, holding it gently yet firmly to his chest where it can reach his chin at best._  I’m Spider-Man, and this is my puppy interview with Buzzfeed.

**Your surprising identity reveal several days ago has set the whole internet alight, but you’ve been rather elusive since then, barring a visit to your school – why the sudden decision to offer an interview?**

Tony, um, I mean, Mr Stark suggested that maybe I should be a bit conscious about my public image, and I know there’s a lot curiosity and rumours about me just now so… I thought about asking to go on Ellen but… no puppies, you know? And all these cute little guys need homes so hopefully someone watching will decide to adopt one!

**How did you become Spider-Man?**

It’s kinda unbelievable, but when I was 14 I got bitten by a spider.  _He looks off-screen, clearly listening to something being said that the camera doesn’t pick up, then frantically shakes his head._ No, not a normal spider! I don’t want to say exactly what happened, but the spider’s dead so I don’t think there’ll be any more Spider-People…

**And what powers did that give you?**

Well, obviously sticking to walls is a new thing, that was a bit of a shock the first time it happened. I’m also a little bit stronger than the average joe…

**What about the webs you make?**

Those are all synthetic. I was making them in my chem lab at school up until now so, uh… sorry Mr Cobbwell… Actually, now that I’m not –

_Two of the puppies, the great dane and the blue-nosed pit bull, leap at each other, play-wrestling on the floor right in front of him and he stops speaking to watch with a goofy smile. After a few seconds he picks up a squeaky toy and squeaks it beside them, laughing as they scramble to chase it when he pulls it away at the last second. After a few moments of teasing he throws it across the floor and laughs again as they rush after it, their paws slipping in every direction on the polished floor. He looks back to the camera with an embarrassed smile._

Sorry, they’re so distracting. But now, I might be able to figure out with Tony about adjusting the formula for other uses like field medicine and disaster relief…

**So, you developed powers and you immediately decided to fight crime?**

No…

_He pauses somberly, scratching the pit bull behind its ear when it returns with the toy, the great dane having been distracted by the strange smells in the room and the Labrador curled up on the floor beside him. The pit bull puppy clambers into his lap, a clumsy mess of limps as it flops back to show Peter its belly which he obligingly rubs._

Two weeks after I was bitten, my Uncle was killed trying to stop a robbery. We’d been out getting dinner and were on our way home when we saw a woman get dragged into an alley. He went to help and I called the cops but… they didn’t arrive until it was too late. I could have stopped it if I hadn’t been so scared. Ben was always doing the right thing, no matter what, and I wanted to… live up to his legacy, I guess.

_(A woman rushes into the frame, the great dane loping along behind her. She drops to the ground pulling Peter into a desperate hug with the pit bull squished between them. The camera doesn’t pick up the words they whisper to each other for several minutes, but this scene is cut from the video anyway.)_

**Did you tell anyone you were Spider-Man?**

No, there was no-one I actually told, I was too scared that they’d be hurt because of me. Tony, uh, Mr Stark, was the first to know but he found out on his own, I mean he’s Tony Stark so of course he did. Then my friend Ned found out. I had been out of patrol and had to sneak back into my room and just, uh, didn’t realise he was already there, haha. Nobody else knew anything until a few days back…

**Not even your aunt?**

_Peter glances off-camera, then picks up the pit bull puppy to hold between him and whoever he’s looking at._

No, but that was… uh… She was really mad.

_“Is really mad” is called from off-screen and Peter gulps then gives a nervous chuckle._

**What’s your best memory as Spider-Man?**

Just… getting to help so many people. Sometimes they’re thankful, sometimes they’re not, but it’s a good feeling no matter what. There’s this one lady, I’ve seen her a few times, she’s always lost, but she always gets me a churro whenever I help her and that’s great!

_His enthusiasm changes to embarrassment in an instant._

Why do I always have to mention the churro?

**What is your worst memory?**

_Peter thinks for a minute, any lingering excitement fading away into a sombre frown._

Most of the things I’ve done so far as Spider-Man were close to the ground, small-time things, you know, and sometimes I can’t fix everything… but there was this one time… I wasn’t even there as Spider-Man, I was just walking home and there was a huge crowd in the streets because a whole building was on fire. There were still people inside, I could hear them over the fire because my hearing’s so good and… I couldn’t just… I ran in. The police tried to stop me but I jumped them and ran in. There was a family on the third floor, a dad and two kids. He gave me the kids and… and begged me to save them. I got them out but the front of the building completely collapsed before I could go back so he… and all the other people in that building… I wish I could have done more.

If we’re talking things strictly done by Spider-Man, I got a building collapsed on me once, that was pretty awful…

**You were enrolled in Midtown School of Science and Technology, what was it like living a double life – Peter Parker by day, Spider-Man by night?**

Really tiring.

_There’s clearly been a short break since the last question because he laughs sincerely now, and the puppy in his arms is startled by the motion, suddenly leaping up to lick at his face again._

Peter Parker is really not that cool, I’ll be honest. I’m that nerdy kid that gets pushed into lockers and sucks at gym class. Not exactly what people imagine Spider-Man to be like… But the thing with keeping it all a secret was that I had to still do all the things I normally would, or as much as possible. I ended up quitting robotics club and band and missed a lot of decathlon practises too, but I still had essays and studying and chores to do around also spending several hours swinging around Queens. It was hard; not as much fun as Hannah Montana made it look.

**Are you saying that you were bullied at school?**

My gut reaction is to say ‘no’, but if I saw anyone else pushed around like I was I’d call it bullying so I guess I was? It was never worse than name-calling and being pushed around a little, but that doesn’t make it ok. When I got my powers it all just became so… unimportant, especially the physical stuff; how tame is getting shoved into a locker at school when afterwards you’re stopping a bus with your bare hands?

**Were you ever tempted to use your superhero powers to gain some cred at school?**

It was always tempting, but Spider-Man’s always been a bit more important to me than something to use for my own gain. We, Ned and I, did try it once, I was going to swing by a party and namedrop myself and give him a high five.

_He laughs, cheeks gaining a red tint._

Didn’t work out in the end, there was an illegal weapons deal Spider-Man had to interrupt instead so I just ended up even less popular than I was because it looked like I’d just bailed on the party completely.

**(Was that illegal weapons deal related in any way to the Staten Island Fairy incident, and the Stark Plane crash soon after?**

_Peter’s face darkens, shutting off immediately._

I don’t want to talk about those events. Sorry.)

**Back to the topic of Spider-Man, you fought with Iron-Man in Germany earlier this year, weren’t you a bit young?**

_The same voice from before shouts a ‘Yes’ before Peter can start to speak, but he shakes his head in response to both the question and comment._

I don’t think there’s any age restrictions on trying to do the right thing. If someone needs my help, and it’s within my powers, I’d like to do what I can. Plus, I got a trip to Germany, and got to meet the Avengers, even if I was fighting half of them…

**So you support the Accords?**

_He hesitates, biting his lip in thought and taking a moment to play tug of war with the Labrador._

I support the  _idea_  of the Accords. The current version… has a lot of flaws that can take away the rights of… people like me in an instant; we studied them a lot in school and I’ll admit that… that worried me a lot. But my job is to protect people, that’s what I want to do with the powers I have, and if people are scared by superheroes, then I think we’re doing something wrong. If government scrutiny is what people want then I guess I’ll have to learn to live with it.

**That sounded like something you’ve come to terms with more recently; how did you feel while fighting against the other Avengers, especially as a teenager against the likes of Captain America and Bucky Barnes?**

I think the first thing I should explain is that nobody was trying to seriously injure anyone else; what happened to Rhodey was an awful accident and by far the worst injury that occurred. That aside, nobody had really explained that much about what was happening. I’d heard about the Accords, of course, everyone had, but by the time I arrived to the party it wasn’t even really so much about them anymore as it was about Mr Barnes and… I think… maybe in that regard I wasn’t on the right side. I’ve heard the whole story since then, about how a terrorist was manipulating everything, but during the fight in Berlin, there were kill orders out for Mr Barnes, and there’d been several attempts. He’d been taken into custody once, locked up without a trial, and then had the Winter Soldier’s programming triggered again by the mastermind behind it all. By the time we were fighting, everyone was so sure Mr Barnes was the culprit and he was running because of his guilt that they didn’t stop to consider that maybe he was innocent. I gotta admit, if someone framed someone I love for a bombing, I’d do whatever I could to protect them too…

All of the people I fought with; Tony, Rhodey, Vision, Miss Romanov and the Black Panther, all of them had already signed the accords, they were under orders from the U.N. to bring Mr Barnes in dead or alive and… well, knowing what I do now, it just amplifies my concerns regarding the Accords. If they couldn’t function properly a day after they were signed into law, how can I trust them, as they are, now?

_He falls silent, staring off to the side of the room with a worried scowl. He startles when the interviewer asks the next question a few seconds later._

**So you want to see some changes in the Accords?**

Oh, there already have been many since then, Tony’s been working hard but apparently politicians are even more stubborn than my math teacher, but at least Mr Gordon would give us candy. He added a provision quickly after Berlin, to cover underaged superheroes, to give them similar rights to those provided to minors in normal courts of law. Right now, I haven’t signed the Accords yet as I’m covered under the protégé amendment. Tony takes responsibility for my actions without me having to reveal my identity until I become of age. Too late for that, obviously, but it was a relief at the time. But… um, what was the question again?

_Peter scoops up a nearby puppy and cuddles it to his chest as the interviewer repeats the question. They have to wait as the dog slabbers kisses all over his face._

There’s still a lot of changes that I think should be made but there’s not really much support behind changing anything right now, as the only people it impacts are people like me, a negligent fraction of the world’s population.

**Do you think changes to the Accords will be a determining factor towards whether you continue as a superhero in the future?**

For me, I don’t imagine so, but we’ll have to see what the future brings for the Accords. If there comes a point where I’m being forced by the government to do things I don’t morally agree with, then something will have to give, but for now I have the incredible fortune of being protected and guided by Tony, so the current less than favourable aspects of them don’t have too much impact on me just yet. But not everyone has that protection and I do think there’ll be some people who will turn to unrestrained vigilantism rather than acting within the law. I’ve always lived by the belief that, if you have the power to help people, you should; will the Accords mean that people like me will have to sit back as people get hurt in fear of either signing away their lives to governmental control that goes against their morals, or being labelled as a criminal? Maybe. I don’t think that’s their intent though, so I do hope more chances will occur soon, before this becomes a problem.

**Quick fire round to finish up – hot dogs or pizza?**

I love a good NY pizza but I gotta say hot dogs. There’s a guy on the corner of 5th and Main who’d give me a freebie every now and then when I was out as Spider-Man.

**Brooklyn nine nine or Parks & Rec?**

Oooh, that’s hard. Brooklyn nine nine.

**Star Trek or Star Wars?**

Star Wars, easy.

**Dogs or cats?**

_He laughs, gesturing at the three puppies now collapsed in an exhausted puppy pile in his lap._

Dogs.

**Summer or Winter?**

Summer, especially since I was bitten; I don’t like the cold so much now.

**Girls or Boys?**

_He hesitates for a second before answering with a shrug._

Why not both?

**(Any girl or boyfriend in your life just now?**

No. There was one girl I… liked a lot, but… it was complicated and didn’t end well. She was so nice but… being Spider-Man… and her… Actually, can we cut this part? It’s not fair on her for me to say this, I don’t want to answer this question.)

**Your hobbies?**

Building robots with Tony and building lego with Ned.

**A perfect date is…**

April 25th. Not too hot, not too cold.

**Spiders – friend or foe?**

They’re fine, as long as they stay out of the way and respect personal boundaries. Unlike these guys.

_He laughs as the three puppies shift against each other, little legs kicking and pushing to make more space. The pit bull sleepily nips at his hands, while the other two snuffle quietly._

**Ok, last question. Shaky recordings from your visit to Midtown on Friday have appeared on Twitter. There’s a lot of speculation regarding the relationship between yourself and Tony Stark, especially when he refers to you as his kid, any comments?**

_Peter looks abashed but pleased, picking up the sleepy pitbull to cuddle to his chest like a teddy bear._

He did? I didn’t even notice he’d said that then… Well, we haven’t… specifically talked about that recently, but… I do also see him as a… a… father-figure, I guess. A dad.

_A new voice, a surprising Irish lilt, comes from the ceiling, speaking loud and clearly into the room._

Peter, Mr Stark would like to clarify that he meant every word he said, and you are, in fact, his kid, even if it isn’t official.

_A pleased flush covers his cheeks and he quickly hides it in the wriggling puppy. A few seconds later he peers over its head, accepting its attention, to look to someone out of the frame. Whoever he is looking at must offer some form of blessing because he reappears from behind the puppy shield with an uncontrollable smile. The bodyless voice speaks again._

Mr Stark says that if you’re finished with your interview, he’d like to see you downstairs in the lab to get some work done. Be there in ten minutes.

Ok, thank you F.R.I.D.A.Y.

_Peter carefully shifts the Labrador and great dane puppies aside, softly apologising for disturbing then when they whimper at being moved. He keeps the pit bull cradled carefully in his arms even as he stands, looking longingly down at its drowsy face until the Irish woman speaks one more time._

Mr Stark says you should talk to your aunt about the puppy first.

_Peter looks from the ceiling to the dog in his arms, a fraction too big to be called a puppy still, in shock, then slowly dawning wonderment._

_He looks up, off camera, with round, pleading eyes and the camera is close enough to pick up the sound of a woman sighing in resignation._

****

**TheSecretUchiha** 12 hours ago  
Fully prepared to throw myself in front of an alien invasion for this child. Please protect.  
2.8k likes  
View all 798 replies

**AdoptAPittie** 8 hours ago  
A great new home for the little pup. #AdoptDontShop  
1.1k likes  
View all 221 replies

**DarlinInTheYen** 10 hours ago  
But that moment when he cuddles that pup and he says ‘People like me’ breaks my stone cold heart.  
1.1k likes  
View all 548 replies

**HeatherBurns** 11 hours ago  
Ok but he QUOTED MISS CONGENIALITY?! If this is the future of our world, sign me the fuck up!  
857 likes  
View all 198 replies

**GarlicDead** 4 hours ago  
So… who can I speak to about those Accords?   
640 likes  
View all 161 replies

**Trending: #SpiderPups  
** 1.1 million tweets

**Miss Swiss @MissSwiss** What did we do to deserve this child? #SpiderPups  
_Reaction gif showing Peter looking sad, hugging a puppy with the words ‘People like me’ captioned along the bottom._

**Lee-anne Charleston @ImAGeneral** An ethical, compassionate, intelligent and well-thought guy my age??? Back the fuck off bitches, this one’s mine! #SpiderPups #PerfectParker #FutureHusband

**Karen Ross @HeroWatch** Sign the petition to pressure the U.N. Accords Council and Defence Secretary Ross to amend articles 44b and 85d regarding the treatment of genetically altered superheroes under the Accords www.change.org/p/Accords-article-44b-85d-amendment #DoWeHaveAnAccord #SpiderPups

**The Humane Society of the United States @HumaneSociety** Thank you @Spider_Man for adopting! 500,000 pitbulls are euthanised each year in US shelters #SpiderPups #AdoptDontShop

**Ellen DeGeneres @TheEllenShow** @Spider_Man we can do puppies too! #SpiderPups #CallMe

**Habib Amir @HabibAmEre** @Buzzfeed @Spider_Man That was me in the fire, you saved my two girls. I made it out the back of the building before the collapse. You were gone before I could tell you at the time, but thank you #SpiderPups  
_image: a man with two children sitting in his lap smiling, a card held between them with the words ‘Thank you Spider-Man’ written in crayon._

**Spider-Man @Spider_Man**  
Replying to @HabibAmEre @Buzzfeed  
The best news I could imagine receiving right now. Stay safe and take care of those two incredible girls!

 

**Spider-Man @Spider_Man**  
Say hello to Webber #SpiderPups  
_image: Peter receiving a massive puppy kiss to the cheek from the beautiful pit bull, his eyes sparkling with delight._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few of you, I think maybe two, commented at the end of the B.A.R.F. chapter like Oh my god give him a puppy to love and I just wanted to be like shhh don't say that yet haha, wait a few more chapters! But here we go. I doubt Webber will have much significance to the plot but know he's there helping Peter heal.
> 
> And obviously, this whole chapter is dedicated to both Tom Holland's puppy interview, and his beautiful blue staffy!  
> (Any similarities to real twitter handles or youtube names is entirely accidental. Except the ones that are obviously not accidental.)
> 
> (Had to very quickly delete and repost this because of editing issues so sorry if you saw the old one! It was only up for like five seconds... I know youtube doesn't use likes but the thumbs up was causing problems so just pretend for this chapter!)


	22. Breathe, then Experiment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Science.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to science in this chapter, but I know nothing about anything I am making them do, so it makes zero sense. Grains of salt required.  
> Somehow my Dr Strange is just so done with everyone, I don't even know how this happened but I can't write him any other way now hahaha...
> 
> This is a slow, almost fillerish, chapter, so sorry if it's boring. On the plus side, more Darcy?  
> I'm hoping to push through the next one super quick to make up for it.
> 
> One last quick note - my Steve probably isn't going to change. I know some people aren't a fan of how I write him, but that's how I see him and I like to think he's pretty in character. If you want fics that portray him negatively there's a whole bunch out there! Huge thanks to ahopelessromantic for writing me a super kind and supportive comment on the subject! <3

Monday morning dawns with grey clouds and a light drizzle – the perfect day for science, a thought Peter has every day he spends time with Tony in the lab, regardless of the weather conditions.

He wakes up in his own bed, having had to reassure Tony, Pepper and May individually and as a group that, yes, he knows that needing reassurance in order to sleep is completely normal after everything he’s been through, and that, yes, he’ll come to them, it isn’t an inconvenience, if he is struggling.

But he’d ended the day feeling much more in control than he had in a long time and managing to sleep through the night without needing to be surrounded by his family on all sides to feel safe would be a big step forward.

Besides, he’d been exhausted, emotionally if not physically, and Webber was a limp noodle in his arms, so they’d curled up under his covers and were out like a light the next instant.

He wakes up slowly, rolling onto his back for a big yawn before he even opens his eyes. He’s just reaching that most satisfying part of the yawn, stretching all his limbs out and feeling some of them crack, when with a yip, something collides with his face and his eyes fly open.

Both Peter and Webber seem to freeze, staring into each other’s eyes, then down at the paw that landed inside his mouth.

Webber’s head tilts slightly to the side, the cutest ‘How did that happen?’ ever.

 

Like most kids, Peter had dreamt of having a dog; he’d gone through a long phase of being obsessed with German Shepherds, after meeting a police dog when he was seven. Of course, he’d spend all of his life living in one small apartment or another, and even if there hadn’t been strict ‘no pet’ rules, they didn’t have the time, space or money to take care of an animal. Didn’t stop him petting every animal he could as either Peter Parker or Spider-Man though. Rescuing kittens from trees never got old.

So he didn’t at all mind throwing on some old sweat pants and a science shirt and trooping outside to let Webber take care of business and run riot across the huge expanse of lawn around the facility. Even at 14 weeks old, he still had apparently not quite got to grips with his body if the way he went tumbling head first into the ground several times were any indication. He still had quite a lot of paw left to grow into, after all.

By the time Webber was finished, tongue lolling happily from one side of his mouth, they were both soaked to the bone, with water streaming off them when they step inside. Maybe he could have planned a bit better and brought towels to the door with him? But when they step through the door, the floor is already layered with them, plus a few extra on a side-table, and when Webber tries to scamper away, Tony is on hand to catch the soaking dog with a look of disgust on his face.

“Oh god, wet dogs really do stink! God that’s gross,” he groans as the dog wiggles desperately in his arms before finally giving up on trying to escape and instead starting to jump, muddy paws and all, up Tony’s chest. “Hey, no, down. Down!”

Peter wrestles the pup back and into a towel burrito that he flops around in helplessly until Peter picks him up like a swaddled baby.

He glances up at Tony, both of them now covered in muddy pawprints and rain.

“Ugh… I’ll work on his training real soon…”

Webber woofs from his cocoon in agreement, his tail moving the extra blankets hanging down vigorously from side to side.

 

Cleaned, dried and freshly changed, in Peter’s case, he races Webber back to the kitchen for breakfast. The dog food that appeared in time for dinner last night isn’t a brand Peter’s ever seen in the supermarket, but Webber seemed to love it so he’s not going to ask any questions that he might not want to know the answer to.

Jane, Rhodey and Vision are already there, with Tony re-emerging a minute after Peter, so once his food’s gone, the puppy is truly spoilt for attention.

While Rhodey attempts to teach Vision proper doggo language, starting with pupper, Tony, Jane and Peter discuss the plans for the day.

“I know we don’t have the exact data we wanted yet, but I’d say we have enough to start with,” Tony says between bites of toast. “I think Pete and I should start on the design while you and Vis keep on trying to identify the best way to boost Strange’s portal magic. Their Royal Highnesses can fit in wherever they want, Strange can use Darcy as a B.A.R.F.-portal guinea pig, and Rhodey can be in charge of taking Webber for walks.”

“Hey!” Rhodey shouts, tossing a grape at Tony at the same time Peter insists that:

“Oh no, I can take care of Webber, he’s my dog so I’ll take him out for walks!”

He looks down at the dog, then lunges just in time to stop him from eating the grape that bounced off Tony, “No Webber!”

The dog whines pitifully when Tony plucks the grape up and tosses it in the trash, “Maybe no throwing grapes around from now on?” he suggests to an apologetic Rhodey, before offering Webber a tiny piece of bacon from his plate when he cries some more.

“Boss,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. says before the conversation can restart, “The Buzzfeed video has just dropped. I will be monitoring social media for anything of importance relating to your son.”

Peter flushes, ducking his face until he can just see Tony at the very edge of his vision.

He… doesn’t seem bothered at all, “Thanks F.R.I.D.A.Y. And don’t forget to assess all calls made to May’s and Pepper’s phones before putting them through, ok?”

“My programming does not allow for ‘forgetting’ Mr Stark,” she replies haughtily.

Tony huffs, “Just last week you forgot to remind me about that gala that Pep asked me to go to!”

“’Forgot’… yes…” F.R.I.D.A.Y. says ominously, then proceeds to ignore Tony’s questions until he settles back in his chair with a groan.

“Never make your own A.I.,” he cautious the table as a whole.

 

Peter’s never worked on a project as big as this, he thinks to himself when Shuri and Tony finally pause for breath in amongst their rapid-fire discussion; nor has he worked with people quite like the ones he’s surrounded by, in a lab more advance than possibly any other on the planet (though he’d quite like to see what Shuri works with on her own turf because she sure makes it sound impressive…)

Yeah, he’d done robotics lab for a while, before the whole superhero thing came up, but, not to brag, he’d always been the smartest of the club. And while they were only limited by the school’s budget, which was pretty darn high, robots had been done before. A lot. Each person could add their own twist and flare but there was little innovation, no slowly piecing together information to create a solution, and make something brand new, never seen before, to suit their needs.

That’s what the two geniuses before him were doing, and even understanding just half what they were saying had taught him so much more than he’d learned in Midtown in the last year!

…now if only they’d stop arguing so much…

“I’m telling you, we need a _centralised_ power source, otherwise-”

“If you try to support the entire circuit from one source, the output of each discharge plate will be different so we need to-”

“It’ll only be different if the metal you use allows energy to be lost between the plates!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, let me just go create another element and I’ll get back to you because a metal that can completely insulate and reduce power loss to zero just _doesn’t exist_!” Tony screeches, throwing his hands in the air as if begging for divine guidance.

“Oh really?” Shuri asks, one eyebrow raised and a cocky smirk on her face.

“Yes, rea- Oh.” Tony stops, mouth opening and close a few times as his eyes flicker quickly, clearly running through a whole range of calculations in his head until Shuri drags his attention back with a satisfied snicker.

“Catch up, robot man?”

Tony, one of the richest, smartest and, in Peter’s opinion, best men in the world, pouts. “Well sorry the rest of us aren’t used to getting to dip their fingers into the Vibranium pot whenever they want, Princess. Not exactly a lot going around for us plebeians. It could work,” he concedes, gracefully. “A centralised power source is undoubtably going to be more stable, so if we can erase variation between the output ports then let’s do it. How long until you can get a shipment of Vibranium over to start work?”

Shuri bites her lip and looks away, flicking through her beads until she reaches the one she wants and, moments later, a hologram of T’Challa appears in their midsts.

“How is your work going, brother?” she asks, voice sweet, but not overly so.

“Slowly, even more so with a little sister who bugs me; I thought you were sciencing and I would have some peace?”

“Oh, I am, and it’s going great, I’m teaching these boys so much!”

“Ok… and?” he clearly knows Shuri incredibly well if his cautious tone is any indication.

“Well…” she drawls, hesitatntly, “We’ve hit a little snag, but don’t worry we’ve already got around it so everything’s fine!”

T’Challa sighs, massaging his brow and letting out a long exhale, “What is it you need, Shuri?” he asks, cutting to the point.

She laughs, and offers a nervous smile, “Vibranium, otherwise we won’t be able to stabilise the portal completely and I don’t think anyone wants to try interstellar travel with a wibbly-wobbly portal, am I right?”

The look T’Challa gives her, and then the other two occupants of the room, is that of a king, not a brother, or a friend, or even a superhero. His dark eyes assess each of them, as if looking for the slightest hint of treacherous intent.

“Very well,” he finally nods, and Peter feels tension he hadn’t even noticed drain out of him as he slumps in relief, “How much do you need?”

The relief on Shuri’s face vanishes as soon as he asks, replaced once more with a hesitantly innocence.

“A tonne?” she asks.

T’Challa, strongest warrior and noble King of Wakanda, slams his face into his desk.

 

Doctor Strange hadn’t expected that, of all the people in the group, he’d be left to work with Darcy Lewis instead of Jane Foster, as Jane was too busy working on isolating the frequency Stark’s portal machine would need and Darcy had ‘nothing better to do’.

He doesn’t know much about her, beyond that she’s stuck around working with Jane Foster even though she long ago ran out of the need to. She’s not a superhero, nor particularly inspirational in an academic sense. When he asked Dr Foster about her, privately of course, he has _some_ tact and the Ancient One taught him this new word called ‘sensitivity’, the eminent astrophysicist had laughed and said Darcy had her ‘own charms’, whatever that meant.

But, at least she’s an adult, he reassures himself as she places the glasses on her face. They’ll run through a test of whether B.A.R.F. works well enough to provide him with a location for his portals without any problems because she is an adult.

“Ok, so just… gotta focus on the memory,” she mutters under her breath, eyes scrunched in concentration.

“Are you sure you know how to work this?” he asks from the side of the room. Once she starts replaying the memory, he’ll be on the move, trying to immerse himself in the space around him as much as possible to increase the chances of his portal working.

“Yeah it’s fine,” she says blithely, “Just gotta not think of any other-”

The whole room goes black, and for a blissful split second, he thinks the power has just gone out.

Then he hears the moaning.

And the creaking of a bed.

And thrusting…

The lights flash back on when Darcy rips off the glasses.

There’s a flush on her cheeks, but she stares him straight in the eyes, as if daring him to comment, and says, “Nope, not that one,” with her head held high.

He gulps, a bead of sweat trickling down his face as she slowly places the glasses back onto her face, holding his eyes the entire time.

“Let’s try again, shall we?”

He nods, because there was definitely a threat in that question.

She calmly brushes her hair back before closing her eyes once more and takes a few deep breathes before letting her whole body loosen as a memory forms around them.

It’s dark again, but outside this time, under the light of the night sky, and he can instantly see that the four people in the memory are completely clothed, thank you very much.

A glance around shows that the four of them – Darcy, Dr Foster, an easily recognisable Thor and an older man he isn’t familiar with – are in an empty dessert, nothing but their car within sight.

Other than the circular runic circle on the ground that is.

The memory starts quickly, Thor stumbling around as if drunk, grunting and shouting for his hammer. Darcy, in the memory, is watching him anxiously while Dr Foster and the man study the ring.

“Heimdall, I know you can hear me! Open the Bifrost!” Thor yells to the sky.

Not the best first impression, especially when he then steps threateningly towards the other man, arrogantly demanding information.

Memory-Darcy whips a taser from her pocket, pointing it straight at Thor who rightfully mocks it; he is the God of Thunder after all, a thousand-odd volts from a tiny dart wouldn’t even scratch –

Thor goes down twitching.

The memory fades away as Darcy pulls the glasses off again, a fond smile on her face as she pats the small lump in her pocket.

If this is what Dr Foster meant by ‘her own charms’ then he can see why she’d keep the younger woman around.

“Think you can make a magic gateway to that spot? It still has the circle burned into the ground so we’ll be able to tell.”

“Let’s have a try, shall we?” he replies, opening a portal that Darcy steps through without a second’s hesitation.

 

The occupants of the lab, now including Jane and Vision, who had come to offer an update on their findings and ended up taking up residence in a corner of that lab instead of returning to their own, look up when a portal opens right in the middle. Darcy, then Doctor Strange stumble through, along with a small sandstorm that promptly coats the floor and surrounding surfaces.

The four scientists squawk in outrage, leaping to their feet and throwing themselves bodily between the portal and the equipment.

“Close the damn portal already!” Tony yells past the gusts of wind, and it snaps shut a second later. “You couldn’t have built a sandpit anywhere else in the compound?” he asks irately.

“Sorry,” Dr Strange says, actually sounding slightly apologetic, “I didn’t think that through. Just thought I should come quickly to let you know about the test.”

“It worked?” Jane asks, optimistically, clearly somehow recognising the god-forsaken sand now coating the floors of Tony’s lab.

“Nope, I showed him the memory of when we met Thor but he could only get us to the desert, not the exact spot,” Darcy says, not at all seeming to be disappointed by the results of the test.

“Could it be because we were driving at the time, so it was harder to pinpoint the exact location?” Jane asks hopefully.

“Nah, I skipped the part where you hit him with your car,” Darcy says nonchalantly.

“You hit Thor with your car?” Peter asks, his voice hushed with awe and Jane looks like she immediately regrets mentioning it.

“She did. Twice,” Darcy replies for her, then continues proudly, “I tasered him too.”

“Wow… Can I see that memory?” Peter asks eagerly.

“Ok, tasing aside, and yes I also want to see that but later; if it didn’t work then _why is there half of New Mexico in my lab_?” Tony demands, completely exasperated.

Darcy and Dr Strange glance at each other, hoping the other will have a response.

They’re saved from having to respond when F.R.I.D.A.Y. suddenly speaks up, “Boss, I hate to interrupt but a car is approaching the compound.”

“If it’s Hill, tell her to come down to-”

“I’m afraid it’s not Agent Hill.”

Tony pauses, wracking his brain for anyone else who might be arriving that day and coming up blank, “Alright, I’ll bite. Who is it F.R.I.?”

“I’m afraid it’s Secretary Ross, sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There'll probably be a bit of Darcy in the next chapter too, she's a nice breath of fresh air right now.
> 
> Let me know what you think! <3


	23. Breathe, then Defend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secretary Ross.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3000 kudos!!!!!! Guys!!! and 999 comments!!!!!!! I can't believe it!! <3 <3 <3  
> Thank you all so much for all the support for me and this story! It wouldn't have got anywhere near here without you guys keeping me motivated!
> 
> Wish I could say this was a good chapter to celebrate, but I'm not super happy with it, and it's another midnight post, so hope there aren't any mistakes...
> 
> Last chapter I knew nothing about the science I was talking about. This time I knew very little about American/international laws. I looked some stuff up and think I got it mostly right, but if things aren’t right, just pretend again please!

“I’m afraid it’s Secretary Ross, sir,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. announces to the room regretfully.

Something twists in Peter’s stomach, and a glance around the room shows that nobody seems all that thrills to meet the man.

Doctor Strange takes a large step back, as if to distance himself from the man’s mere name.

“Well, as nice as this is, I’d frankly rather die a thousand more times than meet the esteemed Secretary, so if you don’t mind…”

He opens another portal but before he can even take a step towards it, Shuri is darting in front, “Met him once, not a fan. Hope you don’t mind if I tag along for a while.” She doesn’t wait for his acceptance, hopping through with a blasé wave of her hand.

“And your brother?” Doctor Strange asks through the portal.

“He’ll be fine! It’s all part of his job,” she calls back, and her voice already sounds distant. Doctor Strange doesn’t look completely happy with that.

“Anyone else?” he asks, rather hurriedly, clearly wanting to chase after the Wakandan princess before she can accidentally curse herself or something of the like.

Jane steps forward from her work station, “If you really don’t mind, Dr Strange?” she asks courteously and he waves her through with a put-upon sigh.

Vision drifts backwards through the wall before he can even offer.

“Miss Lewis?” he asks, when she makes no move towards the portal.

She waves him off, pulling Jane’s barely touched coffee towards her, “I’ll stick around. I have a talent for pissing off crusty, old men and from the sounds of it he’s the crustiest one around.”

He gives her a nod, and glances to the workbench Tony and Peter are still sat at, “You could just disappear you know, I’m guessing he didn’t call ahead so it wouldn’t be on you if no-one was here to greet him.”

“I’d rather not leave him unsupervised anywhere near the compound, who knows what he’d do, even with F.R.I.D.A.Y. watching him. Besides, somehow dealing with him is in my job description now too,” Tony sighs.

“Peter?” Doctor Strange asks, turning to the teenager instead who looks startled by the offer.

“Oh, no, I’ll stay. I’d bet my suit that I’m the reason for the sudden house call. This is my mess so I’d better help clean it up.”

Doctor Strange doesn’t offer again, and moments later the portal is gone.

“I’m going to get more coffee,” Darcy says quickly, jumping to her feet and walking past them to the door. Tony can’t help but glance sceptically at the almost full mug in her hands.

She gives him a pointed look in return, glancing quickly to Peter then back, expectantly.

He waits until her footsteps are halfway down the hall before saying casually: “You could have gone you know, I’m used to dealing with this prick, so I wouldn’t have minded.”

“I know,” Peter says, looking to Tony with a small, thankful smile, “But just because you’re used to it, doesn’t mean it’s your responsibility. You don’t have to take care of everything by yourself… dad.”

He forcefully holds Tony’s gaze, to show his resolve and to carefully watch his reaction to the word. It’s the first time he’s said it directly to his face, after all.

Tony’s eyes widen, then soften in an instant, and he opens his arms wide to tug Peter into a hug.

“We’ll look out for each other then, alright?” Tony murmurs into Peter’s shoulder.

He nods, silently, because maybe things are getting a bit emotional again, and Tony’s hand threads through his hair to keep his head where it is for a bit longer.

When they separate, Tony’s eyes are a bit watery and Peter’s sure his own are just the same.

A whimper at his knee pulls his attention down to Webber, who stares up with soulful eyes, as if to say ‘Why don’t I get a hug?’ so Peter hoists him up and cuddles him tight to his chest, letting him lick away the small tears that drip down his cheeks with a laugh.

“Boss, Secretary Ross has entered the building. He’s encountered Miss Lewis as she was leaving the kitchen, and they’re making their way towards the elevator now,” F.R.I.D.A.Y., the ever-dutiful spy, tells them.

“Give them some gentle elevator music, perhaps some Nickleback? And a nice slow ride down, if you would,” Tony asks, offering Peter a wink. “We’ll talk about this later,” Tony promises, gesturing between the two of them. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. begin a twitter livestream on my page from the moment Ross leaves the elevator, hashtag ‘Do We Have An Accord?’ Send Darcy a message to let her know, and keep the angles flattering; time to swing some more public favour for more amendments to the Accords, me thinks.”

“Error, flattering angle not found,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. quips and Tony turns to the ceiling to start threatening reprogramming but Peter interrupts before he can.

“Is that even legal?” he asks, curiously, “To record someone without their knowledge?”

“On private property it’s up to the property owner, and Ross might think he’s in charge of the Avengers but all of this is still built and funded with my money, so it’s all still mine, I just generously loan it to the cause. With audio recordings, as long as one member of the conversation is aware, it’s legal. But as much as I’d like for him to throw himself under a bus, I have no doubts he’ll be just as good at giving us some good press if he knows, he’s not the most patient of men. Besides, it’d be good to have the moral high ground.” He gives Peter a searching look, “Are you ok with this? You only just did your first interview yesterday, if you don’t want to we’ll find other ways to generate support, you did enough already.”

“I’ll be fine,” Peter smiles, “Besides I’ve got this guy for emotional support,” he says, holding Webber up like Simba, laughing when the pup starts doggy paddle in the air.

“Ok but just tell F.R.I. if you want to stop it, alright?”

He still looks a bit uncertain, even when Peter nods confidently, but he leans in to press a short kiss to the crown of Peter’s head, then one to Webber’s when the dog whines in protest at being left out, narrowly avoiding the lick to the chin in return.

“Incoming,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. announces, “In 5, 4…”

“Just be yourself, ok kid?”

“3,2…”

Peter nods.

“1.”

The elevator door opens, and Secretary Ross steps out quickly, shooting an aggravated glare at Darcy as he does.

“Stark!” he bellows when he sees the billionaire, before his eyes travel across to Peter, whose arms tighten very slightly around Webber, “And your pet trouble-maker. How I hate people like you,” he spits. He seems completely rattled already, and Peter wonders what has set him off this bad.

“Ok wow, rude; in polite circles we normally start with ‘hello, how’ve you been?’ but since you skipped the formalities, I’ll start with ‘Please be aware that this conversation is being recorded for twitter livestreaming purposes’,” Tony replies, voice mimicking the automated voice you’d hear on company phonelines. “We’ve got… I don’t know, how many viewers already F.R.I.?”

“300,000 and counting. 330,000.”

Ross pales, then flushes an ugly red, “This is a private conversation, Stark!”

“No, it’s not; my house, my rules and if you want to talk, we’ll do it with the world watching.” When Ross doesn’t immediately reply, he continues, “Weren’t the Accords to create more transparency? I thought you’d be all for it, Ross?”

Peter can hear his teeth grinding, and the deep breaths he pulls in through them in an effort to calm down. He glances around the room, gaze landing on Darcy who’s found a seat in a corner to watch the drama unfold from.

“I’m sorry, I never got your name, Miss…?” he asks, and everything about his expression is pained. He’s clearly trying to adapt his persona to a more sympathetic image now that he’s aware he’s being observed by thousands.

“Lewis,” Darcy replies, looking as if she’s being forced to talk to a slug.

“And what reason do you have for being in what should be a secure facility, Miss Lewis? The work done by the Avengers is essential for the safety of the country, the world in fact, so please understand if I’m a bit concerned by the presence of someone completely unvetted walking around the building without supervision.”

Darcy looks completely unphased, “Well, it’s lucky I found you before you could wander unsupervised,” she replies, then takes a long, loud slurp of her iced coffee, staring him dead in the eyes.

Darcy Lewis might not have a super-power, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t a superhero. There’s something her no-bullshit attitude, and the zero fucks she gives about who you are – if she thinks you’re a douchebag, you’ll know, and it’s probably true.

Ross looks completely thrown off by her blatant disrespect, gaping at her for several seconds as if trying to compute a response to her but coming up with nothing. Eventually he settles for a dark glare of his own before turning back to Tony.

“I’m sorry, but why is she here? I thought this was the Avengers compound, not a bed and breakfast for any riff-raff to walk in.”

Both Tony and Peter bristle at the insult, even though Darcy only sits back, raising a single, unimpressed eyebrow.

“Darcy Lewis,” Tony begins hotly, “has been working with Dr Jane Foster for over seven years now. I asked Dr Foster if she’d have time to consult with me on a small project, and both of them are welcome in _my house_ while they do so.”

Secretary Ross’ eyes widen slightly at the mention of Jane, before narrowing shrewdly, “Dr Foster, a great scientist, but more importantly, a known associate of the ‘God’,” and he actually does air quotation marks around the word, “known as Thor. I hope you remember you’re under very strict orders with regards to Thor and Banner – if they reappear, the U.N. needs to know, to assess how much of a threat they pose.”

Peter can see Tony’s teeth biting into his bottom lip, clearly holding in the choice words he has about Ross’ attitude towards his two teammates, one who’d been missing for over a year and the other who’s been off-world for just as long.

“Why are you here?” he asks bluntly instead.

They hold each other’s gaze, neither blinking, until Ross’ eyes shift to Peter, giving him a judgemental once-over, “He actually yours, Stark?”

Tony does actually jump to his feet this time, standing tense, like a snake preparing to lunge at its prey, “As good as.”

“So, no,” Ross taunts. “I couldn’t be sure with your… colourful past.” There’s half a sneer on his face as he says that, trying and failing to hide his derision.

Peter actually goes to stand, wants to give the dickbag a piece of his mind, but there’s a firm hand holding him in place and a glance at Tony’s face shows he’s grim but determined. Webber gives a slight grumble at being jolted, but remains silent other than that, clearly able to feel the tension in the air.

For Tony, he stays sitting, but it’s not easy when he turns back to glare at Ross only to find a smug smirk curling the edges of his lips.

“Well, whatever your little pretend superhero is to you, there’s a lot of people at the White House, and our friends in the U.N., who aren’t happy about him making statements to the press about things he obviously knows nothing about.”

 

“Did you even listen to his interview? Because it sounded to me like he knew a whole lot about what he was saying,” Tony snaps back at him.

“And it was anti-Accords! You’ve signed them Stark, you can’t let your ‘protégé’ go around mustering opposition to them! If he is your protégé then he should be following in your footsteps and doing what he’s told.”

“If there’s one thing I value more than anything,” Tony whispers, sneering at Ross’ argument, “it’s individual thought. I don’t need a second Tony Stark around to just agree with everything I say, that’s what the people I pay are here for,” he jokes but there’s little humour in the words. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes as Iron Man, I don’t want Pete making them too and ending up in the same dark hole I’ve thrown myself into.”

“And what about when you’re done, huh, Stark? Is _this_ ,” he jerks his head at Peter, “the future of the Avengers?”

There’s so much distaste in the Secretary of State’s voice when he motions to Peter, that Webber stands a bit taller in his lap, a small growl reverberating from his tiny chest. Peter scoops him up into a cuddle, looking instead to Tony. There’s burning pride in the man’s eyes when he meets Peter’s.

“Damn straight he is. There’s no-one I’d feel safer passing this legacy onto. He’s the best combination of us I could ever imagine – the brains of me and Bruce, Cap and Thor’s strength, Natasha’s agility and Clint’s senses. All that in one, and better morals than any of us, the world will be safer than it’s ever been when Pete is ready to stand up and protect it, so you’d better start shaping the Accords around the suggestions he gives you, cause if you drive Spider-Man away like you did Cap and the others, then there’s not much left standing between us and whatever the universe wants to throw at us.”

The lab descends into a strained silence. Peter’s struck dumb once more by the overwhelming believe Tony’s put in him, while the two other men stare each other down like two wolves, waiting for each other to show a sign of weakness.

The silent combat ends with a jolt when Darcy starts a slow clap, then mimes wiping tears from her eyes. “Wow. That was beautiful. You’ve finally unlocked level 10 dad; dad-jokes are now available at will.”

Peter can’t help the short chuckle that slips past his lips, and even Tony can’t stop a small smirk.

Ross puffs up, barrelling on with the determination to ignore everything that leaves Darcy’s mouth, “Is that what this is, Stark? Letting this kid bat his teary eyes for everyone to see and cry about how unfair the world is to manipulate public opinion? We all know it’s just a ruse, are you mad because I’m not going to just let your criminal friends off Scott-free? They broke the law, this is what happens, and soon enough I’ll find them and they’ll go back to their cells and finish their time.”

“Without trial?” Peter sudden asks, interrupting the two men’s pissing match. “Did they have a trial, because the crimes they committed were on international soils, so I’d have expected an international tribunal, but there was nothing. How can you just lock people away without letting them make their case to an impartial judge? This circumvents the whole justice system!”

Ross’ eyes narrow, turning flinty with hatred as he glances to Peter, “I wouldn’t be worried so much about a group of fugitives, it might give the wrong impression to your _devoted fans_.” He turns back to Tony, “You might want to spend a bit more time teaching your _protégé_ about how things work around here. If he’s even your protégé for much longer; I’ll be looking into the amendment you say you made, I can’t imagine the council would actually want to let enhanced underaged kids play at being heroes.”

“You’ll be surprised then, the majority of the council strongly supported the motion, it was passed in days. Now, it protects the rights of underaged people that develop powers, allowing them to remain anonymous until they turn of age, and also allowing them to work with a superhero that’s already signed the Accords to develop a bond so new superheroes have someone they can trust to turn to for help and advice as they learn the ropes. We need to protect those in the younger generations that develop powers without hindering their growth, and the amendments makes that possible!”

“So that’s how it is, Stark?” he sneers. “You let me go off chasing down your criminal buddies while you’re here weakening the Accords with all of your _amen-_ ”

A loud, slurping noise interrupts him, and all three of them turn to Darcy who’s trying to reach the last of her coffee with a straw.

She looks up when she notices their attention, “Sorry, please continue, I’ll be quiet,” she promises magnanimously.

Tony gains his bearings again first, more used to Darcy’s eccentricities, “The Accords were never perfect, Ross, we all knew that, or at least I thought we did. I knew that and I signed because I knew I could make them better. Steve didn’t have that faith, and that’s why he rejected them. The Protégé Amendment is just the first of many that are happening.”

“A bit convenient, isn’t it Stark, that you decide to change the Accords to suit your needs once you find your own baby superhero to play with?”

“Well, Mr Secretary, that does tend to be how _amendments_ work; once you come across something that isn’t properly detailed in the main laws, you add an amendment. You’d have known all this if you’d managed to make it to the last few Accords panels.”

“It is unfortunate, but I’m a busy man, Stark. I’ll be checking over your Amendment though, make sure your… kid is covered by it. If there are any holes in it though, well, I’m a man of the law Stark, and I’m afraid you might find yourself missing one Spider-Man.”

Tony’s back on his feet before the words even dissipate in the air, fists clenched and looking ready to smack the smug expression off Secretary Ross’ face.

Someone else interrupts before he even makes a move though; a loud, shrill voice from where the elevator doors have just slid open.

“Are you threatening my child?” May roars, storming across the room like a charging bull.

The sudden bluster of a furious parent instead of the threats and intimidation barely hidden in their words takes Ross off guard, and the confidence disappears from his posture as he shuffles quickly away, stumbling over a bundle of wires crossing the floor.

“Don’t you come anywhere near Peter, ever again,” May tells him aggressively, a finger stabbing into his chest for emphasis.

“Get your hands off me, woman, I’m the Secretary of State!” Ross blusters but he doesn’t make any move to push her back himself.

“You could be the fucking Dalai Lama for all I care and I’d tell you the exact same thing you asshole. Peter is fifty times the man you’ll ever be!”

“Your child is a vigilante. I don’t care what special rules Stark’s thrown out to protect him, he’s been illegally tracking down and apprehending criminals for months before that; your child is no better than the rest of them.”

May’s whole body tenses, leaning up right into Ross’ face and Peter thinks for a moment she’s just going to lash out and use her teeth to rip his face apart.

“Peter,” she whispers harshly into the silence of the lab, “I think it’s time for Webber to go outside.”

He would argue, but the May staring down a decorated and respected Secretary of State is not someone he’s ever seen before.

He stands up silently, Webber held in one hand and the other sweeping his phone off the workbench and into his pocket.

Another chair scrapes along the floor, “I’ll go with him, I’m outta coffee anyway,” Darcy says, meandering towards the elevator with all the haste of a tortoise. “Anyone else want something?”

Ross doesn’t respond.

Tony babbles something that sounds like a no.

May declines politely, “No thank you, Darcy. Keep an eye on Pete though please.”

“Will do, Mrs P!” Darcy chirps, slinging an arm around his shoulder as they make it to the elevator. The doors slide closed on the three adults, frozen in place with May and Ross almost at each other’s throats.

Peter doesn’t even finish reaching for his phone before Darcy’s fished hers out, already opened to the twitter livestream, where he can hear May really letting loose.

“You became a scumbag the moment you threatened a child with being taken away!” she screams in reply to something Ross had said, not bothering to mince her words.

“Your child is a nuisance to the police and quite frankly a danger to society after what happened on the Staten Island Ferry. If he’s left uncontrolled-”

“He is _learning_. If he’d been told the ferry was under control he wouldn’t have even been there. Everything that happened would have gone so much smoother if someone had just told Pete what was happening!” She spares a dark glare for Tony who ducks his head for a moment in acknowledgement, looking up again when May’s glare turns back to Ross. “And you know what happened after that? He stopped the biggest heist of alien and advanced tech ever! Not that any of you government types had even noticed that advanced alien weapons and power sources were being routinely stolen! I wouldn’t say stopping the illegal trade of alien weapons was bad work. What have you done for the country recently, Mr Secretary? Please, enlighten me.”

“The Accords that Stark is messing-”

“The Accords? That was King T’Chaka and other world leaders, you just jumped on their coat-tails because you’re so bias against anyone with superhuman powers and you knew this was the best chance to keep tabs on them. You were one of the leading supporters of the article regarding tracking bracelets for people with innate powers, and were the one to put forth the motion to allow indefinite detainment without trial just before the Accords were finalised, pushing it through at the last moment! That’s a denial of basic human rights; it breaches both the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and the Sixth Amendment!”

Ross leans directly into her face, spittle flying from his lips, but she doesn’t back down, “It’s just as well,” he mutters vehemently, “That they’re _not human_.”

The three adults left in the room seem to freeze with his disgust-filled words. They sink in slowly, and even Ross seems surprised at what had slipped from his lips, clearly having lost control of his temper a bit too much.

“Get. Out.”

Ross starts into May’s eyes, the hatred burning in them not even the slightest bit disguised. He’s slightly surprised to see the same level of aggression when he glances to Tony, before what he’d just said sinks in.

May’s a solid force, blocking him in against a lab desk, and he could push past her but he’s already gone way further than he’d ever meant to, and aggression won’t help his cause now. He skirts around her, striding hastily towards the elevator and his escape.

The split second the elevator doors close, May bursts into a flood of angry tears, falling into Tony’s arms with a furious scream, “I hate that man! If he ever comes anywhere near Peter, I swear I will-”

The live-stream cuts off, sending the screen black for a few moments before it returns to Darcy’s twitter feed with a click of her finger.

Peter’s already moving, rushing back towards the Compound doors without a thought when Darcy’s hand catches his wrist at the very last moment.

“Give it one more minute, Petey,” she tells him, and then Ross is storming out, a bodyguard on either side. The three of them head quickly towards the black town car parked, out of place, right outside the door.

Webber barks angrily at the man, drawing his attention and even from afar Peter can see the options warring in his eyes; the desire to approach Peter now while neither Tony or May are there to protect him, and the need to beat a hasty retreat.

There’s a long moment of uncertainty, a half step shuffled forwards, Darcy waving her phone threateningly in the air, and then a sudden disappearance into his car which speeds away almost before the doors have even closed.

Peter slumps, feeling suddenly exhausted.

God does he hope he won’t be seeing Secretary Ross again any time soon.

 

 

**May Parker – The Hero We Need.**  
10 Reasons we are so here for May Parker ripping into Secretary Ross  
by Buzzfeed

_1) You became a scumbag the moment you threatened a child with being taken away._

 

**Secretary Ross – A Man For The People or The People For A Man?**  
The New York Times

If you’ve been anywhere at all on the internet in the past day, you’ll know about the livestreamed discussion with Tony Stark, Peter Parker and May Parker against Secretary Thaddeus Ross on the other. Ross, with only several months under his belt as Secretary of State, was chosen for his services to the country and his straight-forward yet determined approach to his job and his cool rational when faced with problems. The latter was conspicuously absent when challenged by a teenage superhero and his aunt, resulting in the man who claimed to be ‘For The People’ during his inauguration, confessing to viewing people with innate superpowers as being ‘Not Human.’

Since the airing of the discussion via Tony Stark’s twitter page, viewed 72 million times thus far, complaints have been flying into…

 

**HamLed @grahamledger** Remember the attack on NY? Remember that nuke that was sent at us? Now imagine if there hadn’t been any Avengers. #ManhattenForHumanRights #DoWeHaveAnAccord

 

**An analysis of the events leading to the Accords – have the Avengers ever caused greater losses in human lives than they’ve saved?**  
HuffPost

 

**Does Vision deserve human rights?**  
TIME Magazine

 

**Search for missing, former Avengers suspended while U.N. Accords council holds emergency review after pressure from U.N. Watch and Amnesty International regarding Human Rights Violations**  
The Guardian

 

**The Avengers – Flawed and Human (extract)**

…These are men and women that have been willing to sacrifice everything to protect every innocent life that appears in front of them. There have been mistakes; major ones.  
But looking at the situations surrounding these events, can anyone even try to say things wouldn’t have been much worse without their actions?  
Despite what Secretary Ross might think, superhumans are still humans, regardless of their powers, and as the saying goes ‘to err is human’.  
Accountability does not equal the loss of basic human rights.

 

**Alex Lang @SpiderFam** If anyone tries to tell me that superheroes don’t care about the little guys, have you even heard of Spider-Man? Don’t take our spider! #QueensForHumanRights #DoWeHaveAnAccord

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is about as deep as I'll be going with the Accords. To fix that mess you really need a whole fic, as some people have done it so well already! I just thought they were important to discuss.
> 
> I also realised writing this that i don't have a good grasp on Ross. I know he's not a nice man, but trying to keep him from going too OTT and becoming OoC was really hard! In the end I decided he's smart, but does best when he has some power over the other person - like when Tony's trying to deal with the Accords and keep the Avengers safe in CW.  
> Let me know what you think!!


	24. Breathe, then Protect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People hide in fridges.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter took a bit longer. I'm sorry! I had to figure out what the next few chapters were going to be before I could get around to writing and it took a while.
> 
> The number of you guys still following this fic is unreal, I can't get over how incredible you are! Please see the end notes for a few small announcements!
> 
> Brace for more Tony&Peter at the end of this chapter.

The moment Ross’ car passes the fence of the compound on its way out, Peter is darting back inside. Webber yips around him, getting under foot and almost tripping him once before he slams bodily into the elevator door.

He stabs the button repeatedly, even knowing that F.R.I.D.A.Y. is in control of its movement and bringing it as fast as possible.

“Take me back down, F.R.I.,” he demands as he steps in.

The doors remain open.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.! Please?”

“Miss Lewis is on her way. You can wait seven more seconds. Five, four…”

Darcy appears, huffing, in the foyer and Peter feels a smidge guilty for running away and leaving her behind when she’d done so much to help deal with Ross.

“Jesus Christ you’re fast,” she pants as she joins him, “You ever thought of going for the Olympics? Or, I don’t know, like working as a drug runner or something?”

Peter gives her an exasperated but amused look, only for his eyes to widen when she doesn’t laugh, “Darcy, I don’t think drug runners actually do any running…”

She looks as if her whole world has been rocked, but the doors open before she can compose her thoughts to reply and Peter’s darting out, meeting May half way across the room in a desperately tight hug.

She’s too gone for even words, as when Peter whispers a soft, “I’m sorry, May,” she only grips him tighter, pressing her face into his hair. There’s no murmured reassurances or comforting words until she pulls away.

“Never,” she stresses the word, “apologise for that man, Peter.”

Her eyes are rimmed in red, her cheeks are blotchy and her jaw clamped tightly closed and unmoving, as if she’s forgotten how to relax it again, but her expression is soft as she leans in again to place a ghost of a kiss on his brow.

“Promise me, Pete, that you’ll never be alone with him. I can’t lose you.”

Her fierce, aggressive body language contrasts starkly against the vulnerability of her voice when she speaks.

He doesn’t even hesitate. “I promise,” he whispers, looking her straight in the eyes because he really means it, “But you have to do the same. I don’t… he scares me,” he admits, glancing to Tony as he says it, who nods in understanding. “The power he has, and the problems he could cause… but everything he’s doing is wrong, he’s causing more problems than he solves, so I’m not just going to sit back and take orders from him either.”

“You won’t,” Tony promises confidently, moving closer, having given the two of them a moment to calm down, “In less than a day you’ve drawn the world’s attention to him. If he wants to keep his position, and that might be hard when pressure starts to mount, but if he does, he’ll have to be very careful from now on.” He pauses, thoughtfully, something regretful clouding his eyes, “I’m s-”

Whatever he plans to say is interrupted when Shuri slams face first into the floor, a portal two foot from the ground closing a second later as she curses and sits up.

“Is it safe to come through yet?” Jane asks, and the group all turn quickly to look at the second portal that has opened in the corner of the room behind them. “Has Secretary Cock Muppet really left?”

“Secretary Cock Muppet?” Tony mouths to himself, a look of mixed disbelieve at hearing the words from the normally soft-spoken woman’s mouth, and delight over the juvenile insult.

“Yes, he’s gone,” Darcy replies before anyone else can get a word in, seemingly unphased by the casual insult, suggesting it’s not as uncommon an occurrence as one might believe, “Ran away with his tail between his legs.”

“Great,” she says, and has one leg through the portal before Tony stops her.

“Just a minute. F.R.I.D.A.Y., did Secretary Cock Muppet leave any unwanted gifts while he was prowling around with his dick out?”

“Nothing down here, Mr Stark, I believe you were all watching him too intently the whole time he was in the lab. However, he appeared to drop something in the elevator as he was leaving, and I’m picking up a monitoring device beside where he stood; presumably he wanted to keep track of who is coming and going from your lab,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. explains and Tony is immediately on his feet. “Fortunately, with the lab’s soundproofing, the bug will not have picked up anything said or done within the room, except when the elevator doors have been opened during the four point two seconds it took for Mr Parker and Miss Lewis to exit. I suggest a quick removal of the device to be safe, and that everyone remains quiet until it has been destroyed.”

Tony’s heading to the elevator doors the moment F.R.I.D.A.Y. offers its location, however she doesn’t deign to open them until she finishes her explanation. Tony glances around the room, checks everyone is prepared, then signals for her to open the doors.

F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s already adjusted the elevator lighting to highlight the spot and there, blending in with the tiled floor, is a tiny, white piece of plastic. It would be easy to dismiss as simply a broken fragment of something from Tony’s lab if you didn’t know that the controlled chaos of the lab stays in the lab.

Tony picks it up, then walks straight through the silent lab to the attached bathroom, dropping it in the toilet with zero hesitation.

“God, what a turd that guy was,” Darcy says, just before Tony flushes the bug away. Everyone turns to look at her exasperatedly, “Oh, do you think it was still recording? I thought the water would have… Ah well,” she shrugs, “Can’t say it’s not true. Someone should let him know.”

Tony groans in disbelieve but Peter can’t hold a chuckle and he’s not the only one as May joins in.

“Ok, we’re clear now,” Tony announces as a signal for the rest of the group to come through, and for Shuri to move to join them.

It’s still bizarre, watching a whole stream of people appear through a magic portal, no matter how many times Peter sees it happen and having used the same method himself several times.

Jane heads straight back to the corner where she’d been working before the sudden evacuation, “Back to where we were then?” she asks, barely glancing at the rest of them as she dives straight back into her calculations.

The rest of them glance at each other, then shrug in agreement and begin to return to what they’d been doing previously, minus Vision who hasn’t re-emerged yet.

“Where were we…” Shuri asks as she scans the plans scattered across the counter top to remind herself, “Ah yeah, the vibranium… Well, we’re pretty much done with the blue-prints for the machine now right? So, I’d say a little excursion might be needed to gather some materials… Besides, Dr Drops Innocent People on their Face over there needs to go see the psychic chick to see if that works, right?”

Dr Strange nods, “I would never let an _innocent person_ fall on their face,” he retorts with a smirk, then ploughs on before she gets the chance to reply, “It _would_ be good to see if this plan will work before you waste any of the most precious metal in the world,” he points out.

“Sure,” Tony agrees casually, “Better talk to His Highness first though, we won’t exactly be entering by legal channels,” he ignores Shuri’s dismissive hand waving. “Not all of the machine needs to be made with vibranium though, so I’ll stay here and keep on with that to speed things up; maybe things will even go faster without a pint-sized princess nagging in my ear all the time.”

Shuri, with the maturity and grace of her age and position, sticks her tongue out.

Nobody notices the concerned look Peter shoots at Tony before looking down, thoughtfully.

“Where is my brother, anyway?” Shuri wonders aloud, looking around the lab as if expecting him to spring out from underneath a table.

“He is still in his room, Princess Shuri,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. responds. “I informed him of Secretary Ross’ arrival and he said he was unfortunately too busy to meet the man.”

“What’s he doing?” Shuri asks doubtfully.

“Currently he is drawing his fourteenth stick figure illustration with Secretary Ross as the central figure – some of the concepts for the pieces are very intriguing.”

Shuri groans, stomping off without a word to go talk to her brother.

The group of five watch her go.

“She’s kinda terrifying,” Peter whispers in awe, “Maybe even more than MJ is…”

Tony nods in agreement before Dr Strange clears his throat pointedly.

“Well, if I’m not needed for now, I’ll be going back to the Sanctum. I need to inform my Order of the results of the test and our next step.”

“I’ll come with you,” Darcy declares, “Just have me back by lunch, May said we would get Thai today.”

Dr Strange looks like he wants to argue, but then decides to just open the portal and beckon Darcy through; he might finally be warming up to them, Peter thinks.

Tony turns back to the schematics, and senses when Peter joins him. A moment later May appears too.

“Mind if I stick around and watch for a bit? I don’t get to watch Pete doing what he enjoys much anymore.”

“Feel free,” Tony says, gesturing to the nearest chair, “Just don’t be offended when I get in the zone and barely talk.”

May gives him an indiscernible look, “I’m just here to watch my two geniuses work, do whatever you’d normally do,” she insists.

It’s rather distressing how quickly May’s broken through Tony’s walls to warm his heart with things like that. Not many people have been able to just accept the work-a-holic part of him, so he hopes she’ll stick to her word.

“Mrs Parker,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. says suddenly, “I hate to interrupt, but there are 43 messages waiting for you on your answering phone, and 61 new emails in your inbox with regards to the recent live-stream, in addition to the continuing flood of messages regarding the Buzzfeed interview; would you like me to begin drafting replies for your approval and arrange the reporters contacting you by based on how favourable they’re likely to be regarding Peter by considering their previous works?” F.R.I.D.A.Y. asks helpfully.

May sighs, “That’s ok F.R.I.D.A.Y., I guess I’ll pass on lab time and Wakanda and get back to them just now…”

“There are now 59 voice mails and 98 emails.”

Peter goes to apologise for all the work he’s piling on her shoulders, but Tony starts speaking before he gets the chance.

“Take a break May; sit here and watch us be nerds, then go off to Wakanda with the kid, see something new. Best to leave the reporters to really get to grips with everything and come up with some good questions to ask before you actually offer them anything. A few hours won’t kill them.”

May looks a bit uncertain about whether taking advice from Tony regarding the press is a good idea, but clearly she wants to take that his word for it, because after barely a second’s hesitation she nods, “Alright, well if you insist. Been a while since I’ve gotten out…”

She has some rather intelligent questions for someone who professes to know ‘about as much as most politicians which is squat-all’, suggesting she might have picked up a few things from listening to Peter talk about his projects over the years. In the end she does pick up her own tablet, to start drafting a statement regarding the encounter with Ross that she occasionally asks for input on, but the two hours until lunch are perhaps the most relaxed they have had since all this began.

As promised, once Darcy reappears with a “See you later Wang,” tossed back through the portal, lunch is ordered. Jane’s reluctant to leave her work, and eventually promises to be up in ten minutes. Darcy waves the rest of them off, entirely accustomed to dragging Jane from the lab.

Tony heads straight to the door to collect the food from Happy, while May and Peter start to pull plates out for everyone.

“Hey May,” he calls tentatively, keeping his head in the fridge for longer than necessary, “Could you let me talk to Tony alone for a few minutes after lunch?”

He hears May sit the stack of plates back on the counter, even though she’d been about to carry them out into the dining room, “What’s going on now?” she asks worriedly. He doesn’t answer immediately, and her voice grows firmer, “Peter, what is it? Are you planning something?”

“No! Nothing like that… I… I’m just worried about him. He gives up on pretending to be searching for drinks, but doesn’t pull back from the fridge.

“Peter, look at me,” May says, her voice softer but with enough force to recognise the words as an order rather than a request.

He turns slowly, meeting her eyes then looking quickly away when he sees the familiar concern in them. She moves closer.

“I know you’re under a lot of stress, which is the biggest understatement I’ll ever say but how else can I… I think anyway I put it will be an understatement when you’re trying to save the universe… But I know you Pete, and I know this isn’t just about the universe, you’re doing everything you can to take care of everyone you care about too, but I promise you sweetie, as long as you’re fine, we’ll be fine too. It’s not your job to look after us, remember that Pete; I know you’re a superhero now, but you’re still a kid – my kid – so it’s our job to look after you.”

She reaches out, cupping his cheeks in both her hands and trying to meet his eye.

“I know May,” Peter says, then looks up to meet her gaze, resolve burning like a super nova in his eyes, “But being a kid doesn’t mean I can’t take care of you too.”

She watches his face intently, searching for some hint that he doesn’t mean those words with one hundred percent of his being, before sighing resignedly, with a bitter smile on her face, “You’re too good for this world, Pete, I swear… I’ll leave the two of you to talk but you’d better not doing anything stupid.”

“Something stupid? You wouldn’t be talking about me, would you?” Tony asks, strutting into the room with a humoured smile that drops slightly when he takes in the more serious atmosphere in the room.

“Whatever you’re arguing about… I’m on May’s side,” he hedges, looking anxiously between them until May caves and starts to snicker.

“We were arguing about your goatee; May said it’s atrocious and you should shave, I was defending it.”

Tony clearly doesn’t believe him for a second, but obligingly puts a melodramatic hand over his heart and gasps, “I thought we had a connection!”

“The only connections I’m interested in are the ones you have with the best Thai restaurants,” she taunts, taking the bags of food from his slack hand.

“Your aunt is a demon,” he stage-whispers to Peter, who nods in silent agreement.

 

As promised, May gives him a look then asks Darcy to help her understand Jane’s research. For a moment it looks as if she might refuse, clearly having just as little understand about what the astrophysicist is working on as May does, but she glances from May’s expectant gaze to Peter’s imploring one, then to Tony who is the only one to miss the whole interaction. He’s barely spoken since the food was served, laughing along to a few of May and Darcy’s stories in a passing attempt at being involved in the discussion.

Normally he’s better at hiding his emotions than this.

It takes more than two minutes after they’ve left before Tony actually realises, startling in his seat and looking around. Something simultaneously swells and breaks in Peter’s chest when Tony’s eyes immediately search him out, the worry in them fading when he sees him still sitting there.

“Wow, I really zoned out there,” he says, trying to sound upbeat as he jumps out of his seat, picking up the plate still half full of pad thai and heading to the fridge to put them away. “Best get back to work, see how much more we can get done before you head off to Wakanda.”

His back’s turned to Peter, shuffling around in the fridge in the exact same way Peter had to avoid conversation with May.

“Actually, I was thinking I might just hang out here with you, Wakanda sounds cool, but nothing’s better than getting to work in the lab with you.”

Tony’s shoulders hunch and he shrinks in on himself, “You don’t have to stick around, kiddo. Seeing Wakanda with your own eyes is like living a dream, you shouldn’t miss out on getting to do that. Plus you really should meet the rest of the team properly, we’ll be working with them a lot more once we’ve got in touch with Thor, and there’s a lot of things they can teach you that I can’t. And I think Shuri really wants to get to show off her own lab, she’s been bragging about it so much so one of us needs to go check it out otherwise-”

“What if I don’t want to go?” Peter ask, stubbornly.

Tony sighs, finally emerging from the fridge and turning to face him, “Pete, Bucky and Steve… we’re good, or as good as we can be right now. They apologised, I apologised, it’s fine.”

It’s clearly not fine.

“I thought you agreed with them about the fight, anyway? I meant what I said to Ross, having your own opinions about things like the Accords is fine, mine isn’t always right, as the growing mound of evidence proves…”

Peter’s chair scrapes loudly across the floor as he stands, slamming an open hand down on the table, suddenly angry at Tony for repeatedly putting himself down so much, “I think _both_ of you were wrong! I know… that they were right to defend themselves because you were making a bad choice but…” and Peter actually starts to tear up, “but he slammed his shield right into you Tony, he broke your suit and your heart and just left you there as if you didn’t matter at all, but you _do_ matter. So much. _To me_ … and I know what we’re doing now is more important than that, I was the one to tell you to put everything behind you, and I can’t stop thinking about what Thanos will do, but maybe I don’t want to just let it go when I know how much he hurt someone I love.”

He’s panting by the end, hands clenched at his side in a furious imitation of the Arthur’s fist meme as he tries to will the tears back into his eyes because surely he’s cried enough by now?

“Come here Pete,” Tony mumbles, and opens his arms. As soon as he staggers close enough, Tony pulls him in, using a hand to angle Peter’s head so that his ear is lying right over the reactor. Peter can hear the very faintest of hums, only audible because of his advanced hearing. Behind that, he relaxes into the soothing rhythm of Tony’s heart pumping blood around his body.

“What happened in Germany, then Siberia… well I’ve already said I made a lot of mistakes,” Tony admits and one of Peter’s ears picks up the words through the air while the other hears them reverberating through Tony’s chest. “One of which was taking you in the first place. Asking a fourteen year old kid to fight for me isn’t the best choice I’ve made in life, even if the end result has turned out well,” he says, giving Peter’s shoulder a squeeze. “But the things that happened… it’ll take a while to get over them but I will; mostly because you’re here to tell me when I’m being a stupid adult and dropping truth bombs every time you open your mouth. I just wish I’d realised how important you are earlier.”

“I’m not as important as you though, Tony,” Peter mumbled into his chest. He smiles when Tony laughs and his arms squeeze around him tighter.

“You’re way more important than I’ll ever be, Pete. And…” Peter can hear him swallow, nervously, before he shifts a hand to cradle Peter’s head, holding it in place and stopping him from moving or turning to look at him, “If you… if you want to call me dad… I don’t mind.”

Peter’s mind flashes back to that first hug, or not hug as it were, in the backseat of an Audi with Happy glaring through the window. He remembers the mortification he’d felt at presuming to hug his idol.

He wishes he could travel back in time again, to tell the Peter of then just how much things would change.

“Thank you, dad,” he whispers.

“No problem,” Tony replies, and he can’t help notice how gruff Tony’s voice sounds. “Thanks for trying to take care of me, just do me a favour and remember to take care of yourself too, kiddo. I need to know you’re safe. Don’t ever make me have to choose between you and the world, Peter; I can’t guarantee I’d choose the world.”

Peter doesn’t reply, not able to make that promise, but it’s another half hour before they head back to the labs and he treasures every minute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> If you have any of your own creative insults for Ross, please share them with me!! :D
> 
> Now, as I'm sure you know, I always have wayyy too much to say in the notes and that's pretty annoying I'm sure, even for me... So I decided I'd try to let them all out on social media instead. I haven't tumbled for a very long time, it was too much effort running my blogs, but I made one again for this fic. A twitter too. I prefer twitter but I'll probably end up using whichever one you guys like most predominantly.   
> So please check me out  
> Tumblr: https://breathe-then.tumblr.com/  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/BreatheThen
> 
> I'd love to chat with you guys more so we'll just see how things go! Maybe I'll also post updates and stuff, and hints about other things I'm working on... If nobody cares well then, I tried xD
> 
> Lastly, and just as a very unlikely heads up, I live in an area that had a pretty bad earthquake on Monday, and we had a small one again tonight. I full intend to, somehow, make it through this whole fic, but if I ever stop posting and don't reply to messages on tumblr/twitter after an earthquake, please use your imagination for the rest of the story!


	25. Breathe, then Embrace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A field trip.
> 
> Peter is oblivious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took longer than planned but it also got longer than planned... It was three lines on my plan, 30 words! And it turned into a 5k monstrosity!! 
> 
> There's some Xhosa translations at the end, but I don't think they're particularly necessary. You don't need to know what everyone's saying because Peter sure as heck doesn't.
> 
> Thank you as always for all your kudos and comments! <3

It’s 12.30pm when Doctor Strange returns to the compound, looking a bit less composed than normal. Everyone is already waiting, except Rhodey, who’s been called away on military business once more, and T’Challa.

“I talked with the other Masters in Kamar-Taj and the topic of destroying the Stones was raised. There was… vocal disagreements,” he explains as they wait for T’Challa to arrive from where he is finishing off some ‘real work’.

“They weren’t for it then?” May asks, unsurprised.

“Most of them, however a few did see the logic in it, thus the arguments, but I don’t believe they will sway enough support. I would suggest focusing our efforts on destroying the Space Stone, as planned, otherwise we might have scores of enraged sorcerers to contend with before Thanos even thinks of Earth.”

“We’ll put destroying the Time Stone at the bottom of the list then,” Shuri offers, confidently meeting Doctor Strange’s eye when she blatantly refuses to remove it from their list of possibilities.

Doctor Strange doesn’t seem to object at all, shrugging slightly in acceptance as T’Challa finally exits the elevator. “Now that everyone’s here, you don’t mind if we get moving? I’d like to get this test over with as quickly as possible so I can let the Masters know how it went.”

He looks to T’Challa for permission, then swipes his hand through the air to form a spiral of sparks that open slowly to show open fields and a mountain looming just to the side.

“I didn’t have the time to pinpoint an exact location for Rogers or his team, what with talking to the Council, so I hope you’ll be able to arrange transport or at least point me in the right direction for another portal,” he tells T’Challa and the room at large as the portal stabilises, big enough for anyone to walk through without having to bend.

“It looks like you are close already,” T’Challa says, “Shall we go?”

Shuri pushes past him, clearly eager to see her own lands again, and, after an uncertain glance to Tony who nods to him, Peter darts through after her.

“Wow…” he whispers, getting a proper view of the luscious green mountains as he turns in place. He’s so distracted by the skyline, he doesn’t immediately notice the group of people previously concealed behind the portal, armed with spears much sleeker than any Peter’s ever seen before, quickly forming ranks and preparing to attack. “Uh, Shuri?” he shrieks, keeping his eyes on the group that shift anxiously when Darcy stumbles through the portal.

Shuri must have turned to see the group because in an instant they change, from bracing for a fight, expressions as hard as diamond, to loose-limbed and cheerful.

“Phumula, bazalwane bami. Ziindwendwe,” she says, a soft smile and warmth in her eyes, gesturing at the group around her.

Peter watches, in awe, how she switches easily from hyperactive teenage genius to Princess of a country who holds the respect of her people. The interaction only last a few seconds but it’s startling to see how gracefully she behaves.

Then the portal snaps closed, startling the locals once more until another voice fills the plain.

“You have done well, Doctor; the city is just beyond the mountain. I will call for transport and we can be within the palace within the hour.”

The Wakandan villagers, despite possibly not speaking English, recognise the figure and his voice immediately, snapping into the crossed salute Peter had seen T’Challa offer before.

“Ubhuti,” Shuri calls, and T’Challa turns to look, straightening from his relaxed slouch and returning the gesture with a dignified nod before striding over.

Peter is transfixed by the Xhosa streaming from their lips, the way some of the sounds are merged with clicks that he can’t figure out how they produce.

“I could never get the hang of the ‘X’ sound in Xhosa,” says Tony as he joins Peter in watching the group discuss, the people to the back slowly starting to disperse with respectful nods to their king.

“It’s so cool,” Peter exclaims, “Do you think – Tony! You’re here?” His eyes scan over the man’s face, searching for any sign of a problem, “I thought you were going to stay behind and keep working?”

“Ah well, what can I say? Getting another look at the vibranium mine is just too tempting.”

“You didn’t have to come just because of what I said or to make me happy…” Peter trails off, biting his lip nervously.

“I know, squirt,” Tony promises, ruffling his hair hard enough to make Peter squirm away, “But maybe hiding away in my lab won’t help anyone. Better to get any we-tried-to-kill-each-other awkwardness out of the way before a meeting that’s really important,” he finishes with a blasé shrug that would have worked better if his shoulders hadn’t been so tense.

He decides to leave the conversation be when Shuri skips back over to them, “Brother is almost finished soothing the tribesmen, they have had an influx of orphaned rhinos this year, and were looking for more land to make space for them when the portal suddenly appeared. They feared another outsider might be attempting to attack the city. They are nervous after the last coup, the people of the border tribes were the most affected and they are most anxious about opening up our borders to the rest of the world.”

Peter observes the people while taking in her words; even those who have drifted back to work are keeping a careful watch on the group of strangers.

“Come, friends,” T’Challa suddenly calls in English, glancing over his shoulder, “They live just behind that outcrop, N’Taka will show us the rhinos they are raising.”

The whole group must be as gobsmacked as Peter is, because T’Challa smirks and the older man, N’Taka, finally relaxes enough to laugh vibrantly at their reactions.

 

There are eight babies, closer in size to a St Bernards than an adult rhino, with goofy over-sized feet that remind him of Webber. There’s two adults as well, with two foot long horns protruding threateningly from their faces. They look up, huffing and snorting uncertainly when the unknown group arrive, but settle back to grazing when they don’t move any closer.

Peter’s so engrossed in just how large the adult rhinos are, that he doesn’t even notice N’Taka disappear inside the hut beside the enclosure and reappear with several bottles in hand until one is pushed into his hands by the smirking man.

“Bondla,” he says, gesturing to the babies and Peter might not understand Xhosa but he can figure out that the large bottle of milk probably isn’t for him.

They’re each given one; Peter, Tony, Darcy, Jane, Vision, Shuri and May. Doctor Strange steps quickly back from the offered bottle.

“Hayi enkosi,” he says, and the Wakandans turn to him with surprise etched into their faces.

“You speak Xhosa,” Shuri says, half-accusingly.

“Not well. Several important texts I studied were written in it, so I learned enough to read them, but never spoke it.”

“You are indeed an intriguing man, doctor,” T’Challa murmurs, keeping the last bottle for himself.

The babies are clearly familiarised with the bottles, and are less shy of the strange people when food is being offered.

Peter ends up with the biggest of the bunch, and just as well because its enthusiasm translates to throwing its whole body weight into him to get the food.

When all the milk is gone it mouths at his clothes instead. A sharp bark of laughter from his left draws his attention to Tony who’s laughing at his predicament, only for his own rhino, much smaller, to start chewing on his undoubtedly designer shift sleeve.

“Thank you for your assistance, I am sure they will now grow up big and strong, after feeding from the hands of as honourable people as yourselves,” T’Challa acclaims sincerely. “Our transport into the city will be here in five minutes, but the tribesmen have spotted a pride of lions half a mile away, if you would like to have a look from the top of the outcrop?”

He gestures to the mound of rock, roughly seven meters high, that the enclosure sits beneath, and Peter’s already darting to it, scaling it with ease while the others are slower off the mark.

“Half a mile away is rather close to where you live, isn’t it? Aren’t you worried?” May asks as they climb the rock.

“You misunderstand, Mrs Parker,” T’Challa says soothingly, “We are the ones living in their land, and humans are much more dangerous to them than they are to us. They will not come any closer, and we will leave them to their hunt.”

They reach the top as he finishes, and at the same time that Peter crows with delight, his advanced eye sight finally picking the felines out from amongst the yellow grasses further across the plain.

“Wow, there’s so many of them! Fourteen I think,” Peter tells them over his shoulder.

N’Taka, despite his older age, has followed them up, and starts to speak in Xhosa while watching the lions.

“N’Taka says this pride is a familiar site around here. The largest male they call Umphathi, or Boss. He has led his pride for eight years now and it has flourished under him. Even though he is getting older, he is still wise and strong,” he translates as N’Taka speaks, then adds, solemnly, “It would be sad for his death to be at the hand of something as insignificant as a snap of fingers.”

The thrill of seeing the incredible animals tempers into a focus that burns his very bones.

“Our transport has arrived.”

Peter takes one last glance at the group stalking the plains, watching Umphathi survey his pride, and then leaps off the rock towards the hovercraft that is approaching silently.

 

The hovercraft is fast, and beautifully designed, but even that isn’t enough to distract Peter from staring out the window as they round the mountain and the city, Birnin Zana, comes into view. Just from a glance he can see how much more advanced the city is than any he’s visited in America. It just drives the point home when they glide past bustling market places and see the way technology is incorporated into every aspect of their lives but so subtly.

When they reach the palace at the very centre, there’s already a welcoming committee – rows of armoured women, straight backed and chins raised, and snapping out salutes in perfect unison when T’Challa exits the ship.

Peter had seen the two Dora Milaje who arrived with T’Challa at the compound and they’d been awe-inspiring. Seeing a group of sixty-strong…

They’re breath-taking.

“Okoye will take you to the other Avengers,” T’Challa is saying, beckoning to the most intense looking woman of the whole group, whose eyes rove over them then sniffs, unimpressed with what she sees. “Unfortunately while I am here I have to meet with the Elders, so I’m afraid I will be unable to attend your meeting. However when your business is settled I shall return with you – I would like the chance to offer you some advice on fighting, Peter.”

May has to elbow him in the ribs to push words out of his mouth, “I… that would be incredible, sir, I mean, your highness.”

“Just T’Challa is fine, Peter,” he assures with a warm smile before heading off in a different direction, a group of Dora Milaje falling in behind him.

“He’s so cool,” Peter murmurs and Shuri mimes vomiting.

 

The room they’re led to is spacious, a large window filling the room with the last rays of the setting sun. Shuri’s already disappeared, off to her own lab with the promise that they’ll come to see it once they’re done with the ‘boring stuff’.

The other half of the Avengers are already waiting by it when Peter enters the room, the light silhouetting them, making their figures seem even more impressive, like Greek gods, rather than a group currently considered criminals, pending further investigation. Their features become slightly more visible as they step further into the room, stopping far enough back to leave a few meters between them, nobody immediately willing to cross the rift.

Steve and Natasha both look happy to be seeing them in the flesh again, whilst Sam and Wanda look more closed off. Bucky looks anxious, hovering at the back of the group in a way that reminds Peter of an abused puppy, nervously glancing between the two groups and prepared to put distance between him and the rest of them the moment anyone makes a sudden move.

“Tony,” Steve says softly, “I didn’t think you’d be coming.” The question is clear in his voice, yet the tone ensures it sounds unaccusing.

“What can I say,” Tony shrugs, “I haven’t quite reached the level of self-pity required to hide away in my lab when there’s more important problems to be dealing with. Besides, we’re good, right?”

He stares intently at Steve for a few seconds, before his eyes stray to Bucky’s, the gaze just as searching.

“I can leave, if you’d like,” the former-assassin offers, tone carefully blank.

“I mean it, we’re good. Thanos is more important than anything else right now, so we’ve gotta play nice. You can paint my nails, I’ll make you a new arm then paint yours too, and we can talk about boys, sound good?”

Bucky’s remaining hand starts to reaches towards his empty sleeve, but aborts the motion almost immediately. “That sounds good,” he replies softly.

Tony looks taken-aback at the agreement, frowning slightly, trying to decide if Bucky’s being facetious before eventually accepting his sincerity, “Ok then, we’re good, see?”

May loops her elbow around his when he seems to flounder, taking the initiative to bridge the gap between them, “You can do my nails as practise, we weren’t allowed to do them fun colours at the office, so I should really embrace it now before I get too old for bright colours.”

“You? Too old?” Tony cries in outrage as they take their seats, “Lies and slander. You look younger every day.”

“Please stop,” Peter begs as he quickly moves to stand beside Tony. He glances at the group in front of him, taking in the way Steve’s watching with a small, slightly nostalgic smile, then pointedly takes another half-step forward, placing himself very slightly in front of Tony. He scowls slightly when the action just makes the man’s smile a bit warmer.

“As nice as this is,” Doctor Strange scoffs, making his own place in the group, “Perhaps we could deal with the actual reason we’re here before you all start hugging. Doctor Steven Strange, by the way, and yes, I have a PhD.”

Steve looks a bit startled for a second before regaining his composure, “Steve Rogers, a pleasure to meet you. This is Na-”

“Yes, I’m aware, now can we please get to the part where someone rifles through my head because as much as I’m opposed to it, it’s a necessary evil and I’d rather get it over and done with.”

“I really thought I was getting through to him about the whole ‘not acting like an asshole’ thing,” Darcy sighs regretfully.

“If he was learning manners from you then it’s no wonder he’s gotten worse,” Jane says flatly.

Darcy’s complaint is drowned out by Natasha’s approving hum, “A man of action, I can appreciate that.”

“I’m flattered, but I’m not interested,” he drawls and Natasha raises a sculpted eyebrow, sardonically.

“My last boyfriend disappeared two years ago and nobody’s heard from his since. I’m not sure you’d be up for the challenge.”

Peter gulps nervously, leaning closer to Tony and asking in an apprehensive whisper, “When they call her ‘Black Widow’, that isn’t for… _other_ reasons, right?”

Thankfully Tony snorts, which Peter can guess to be a ‘no’ on the killing-men-after-sleeping-with-them front, at least not as a regular occurrence anyway. When he glances back, Natasha and Steve are smirking, and even Bucky has an amused smile on his face, so clearly he hadn’t been quiet enough for a room with three other enhanced heroes in it. He doesn’t let himself feel too embarrassed, cause the a smiling Bucky looks at least ten years younger.

“Explain one more time what you want me to do,” Wanda asks, taking a step forward to face Doctor Strange.

“All you need to do is look in Dr Foster’s head, then copy and paste a memory into mine.”

Wanda snorts, “For a magical neurosurgeon, you don’t seem to appreciate the intricacy of what you’ve just asked, the number of things that could go wrong…”

“Oh I’m aware, and to be frank there’s nothing I want less than someone messing around with my brain, I know just how badly this could end up, but we don’t have any other option right now, and according to Stark you were rather adept at putting memories in his head. It’s debatable whether there were any serious, long-lasting effects on his sanity.”

Wanda looks both angry and penitent at the reminder of what she’d done while working with Hydra and replies through gritted teeth, “What I did then was simply build on fears they already had, extrapolate from them exponentially to provoke a response; it’s completely different from pressing Control V and hoping for the best.”

“Well, unfortunately for me, I just have to be the guinea pig for this test, so if you really think it’s impossible, you’d better say so now, I’d prefer my brain not scrambled and we need all the time possible to come up with another plan.”

The two of them stare

“I can do it,” she finally declares adamantly, “It just might take several attempts to get it right. I need a quiet place to focus.”

She looks to Okoye, who’s waiting patiently by the door, but a second woman has appeared during the short discussion.

She’s beautiful, even though she’s a bit older, but even more eye-catching is her incredible gold dress, with large shoulders and a matching hat. She looks like an angel in human form.

“Okoye will take you to a quiet chamber for your work,” she says obligingly. “I will take the rest of you to see the vibranium mines then the labs whenever you have finished your discussions.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Steve replies, “Perhaps just one minute more if that is alright?”

She waves a hand magnanimously, gesturing for them to continue. Okoye gives her a dark, indiscernible look, before motioning Wanda, Jane and Doctor Strange to follow her from the room.

“If no-one is averse to the idea, I would also like to observe your work, Miss Maximoff,” Vision says before they can leave. “Perhaps by watching you use your powers in such a way, I will gain some understanding of how this stone works too. After all, both of ours powers originate from it.”

Peter’s never seen Vision as demure as when discussing his own existence, and the atmosphere in the room shifts to mirror it.

“I don’t mind,” Wanda offers, the slight flush on her cheeks and the warmth in her eyes doing nothing to hide how she feels.

“As long as you remain quiet and don’t interrupt the process, I won’t object,” Doctor Strange agrees and Jane just nods with a smile.

“We’ll catch up with the rest of you later,” Jane offers as she heads for the door. “Enjoy the labs for me!”

There’s an awkward pause after they leave, the silent gaps between conversations highlighting that they still have a way to go to before they all feel completely comfortable again.

“So, word on the street is that T’Challa’s giving you a huge chunk of vibranium – the portal amplifier coming along ok?” Natasha asks.

“I’d say a week, tops, provided there’s no serious setbacks,” says Tony, “Then we should have a Thor to add to our set.”

“And what exactly would you like us to be doing while you geniuses work on that?” Sam asks, a slight hint of frustration colouring his words.

“You don’t have to do science to be a genius,” Peter points out quickly, “You guys have more military experience than we do, so start making plans for fighting Thanos. You’ve seen how he and his minions fight, and you’ve seen how most of our side fight too, make up some scenarios. Maybe we’ll be able to take them all on one at a time, but probably not. Pick apart their weaknesses and match them with our strengths; figure out who would be best fighting against who and who each of us should avoid; plan for the possibility that Thanos might appear before we’re ready for him – me being here is going to make some changes, I doubt they would be far-reaching enough to span the universe, but who knows? Last time the biggest problem was being caught on the back foot, like we always are, so make some emergency action plans or something.”

Sam blinks, surprised by the sudden overload of suggestions, before nodding thoughtfully, glancing around at the remaining members of his group, “We could probably whip up some plans between the four of us. They may not have my brains, but I’m sure they’ll help.”

“Wow, go a bit lighter on the ego there, bird brain,” Natasha sneers at him but with a smirk curling the very edges of her lips.

“Definitely never heard that one before, Nat, you wound me,” Sam replies sarcastically.

Steve sighs, as if dealing with a pair of particularly troublesome children.

“You should go,” Bucky tells Peter’s group with a sigh, “Once Sam gets started, he doesn’t really stop.”

“Fuck you man!”

“No thanks.”

 

The mines are spectacular, and the woman in gold (Peter really thinks he should know her name but he doesn’t know how to bring it up at this point) knows a lot about them, from the science to the history. She even gets them an up-close look at the maglev trains the city uses both in the mines and for public transport.

But all that is _nothing_ compared to the lab that Shuri beckons them into. It’s a paradise.

The design is incredible – clean lines and white space, giving an appropriate science-y feel, but with traditional African art bisecting it straight down the centre.

Then Shuri explains some of the main projects without a single pause for breath – vibranium healing, vibranium clothing, vibranium weapons, vibranium vehicles, vibranium, vibranium, vibranium…

Peter might cry.

She actually lets him play with some of them too and try to figure out how they work. Darcy offers her own theories, horrifically off the mark but entertaining instead while May just watches on, amused by their antics.

Tony follows at a leisurely pace, inspecting some of the pieces with approving nods and skipping over others entirely. The beautiful lady keeps him company, and Peter leaves them to their calmer, adult conversations.

He’s part way through an honest to god driving lesson, using Shuri’s remote access car frame to control a jeep powering across the plains outside the city with unhelpful advice from both Shuri and Darcy once he admits he doesn’t know how to drive yet, when the Lady’s kimoyo beads flash and she projects a hologram of Okoye in front of her.

“The wizard has finished his tests,” she says curtly.

“Thank you, Okoye, we will make our way back,” she says before closing the hologram. “Shuri, it is time to return to the palace. Make sure you have everything you want to take back with you, the Dora Milaje are too busy to come at your beck and call.”

“They come at T’Challa’s beck and call,” she mutters mutinously, but clearly not quietly enough.

“T’Challa does not ask for them to bring him a ripe mango.”

“That was one time, Umama!” Shuri cries, and Peter is too relieved to finally know the woman’s name to bother taking note of the fact to tease her with it later.

 

They take the ship back to the palace, May, Darcy and Shuri go to the front window to look at the city at night, but Peter stands at the back with Tony, watching the illuminated spire roof of the lab and the incredible panther sculpture grow more distant.

“Looked like you had a good time in there, kid,” Tony points out.

“I did,” he agrees, “It was incredible! But… I think I like your lab more. I like spending time with you doing science most.”

Tony wraps an arm around his shoulder, and Peter thinks that maybe that’s the end of conversation until they reach the palace again, they’re only a few minutes away after all, but a voice instantly disproves the thought.

“You remind me of Shuri, the brightness and curiosity,” Umama says as she strolls to the back of the ship to join them.

“You know Shuri well?” Peter asks, surprised, then slightly confused by the wide-eyed look Tony gives him.

Umama laughs, “You could say so. I… took care of both her and T’Challa when they were children. I like to think I still do, but I think they’d both say they’re too old for that now.”

“Wow, that’s so cool! What were they like when they were younger?” he asks, enthusiastically.

“A handful. They were like baby monkeys, always causing trouble and playing tricks on each other. They haven’t changed one bit, T’Challa is just better at hiding it.”

She must know them well, Peter realises; he hasn’t heard anyone speak so personally and fondly of the king.

Her affectionate smile wanes slightly, “The recording of your memories was passed on to Captain Rogers and his team through me, so I was there to watch it as well. You bear a great weight on your shoulders, Peter, but you carry it well. You remind me of T’Challa in that way, but perhaps even he could learn from you,” she says with a fondness in her eyes as Peter blushes and stumbles over his words.

“That’s… that’s too kind, ma’am, but I really don’t think… that it… I’m not…”

“Mr Stark, I believe you need to teach your child how to accept compliments,” she chides teasingly.

“It’s a work in progress,” Tony sighs.

“Thank you, Miss Umama,” Peter says, before anyone else can jump on board to tease him.

It clearly works, as both Tony and Umama go silent and he looks out the window with a satisfied smirk.

“It’s Mrs, but please just call me Umama if you’d like,” she offers, voice soft and for some reason Tony snorts in disbelief.

“Thanks Umama!”

 

“Did it work?” May asks, the moment the doors to the meeting room open again. The room is lit internally now, with only the lights of the city visible through the window. Everyone is there, even T’Challa has managed to escape his council.

The discussion between Jane and Doctor Strange stops, and both of them turn to face them with serious faces.

They crack a moment later, “It worked!” Jane cheers, “Doctor Strange took us straight to the bar in New Mexico and we all had a pint to celebrate! All thanks to Wanda.”

The young brunette waves away any thanks but she’s smiling too, and now that Peter’s less anxious to hear the results, he notices that everyone in the room seems a bit more relaxed and joyful.

It’s nice, to see everyone smiling.

“That’s great,” Darcy says, “Did you get the memories from Asgard too then?”

The three involved in the memory transfer exchange quick looks, but they don’t stop smiling so Peter’s not too worried.

“No, it’s too soon,” Doctor Strange eventually explains. “The memory transplant regarding an on-Earth location that Dr Foster is familiar with worked fine, however even just an hour since then, the images in my head are starting to grow fainter. I theorise that while Miss Maximoff is able to perfectly recreate the memories of an exact time period, without relative points of reference, for instance other memories of the same place, or the events before and after, the memory will start to fall apart, the same way they naturally do with age, just at a much faster rate. Miss Maximoff will need to transfer the memories of Asgard just before we attempt to contact Thor.”

That’s definitely not the worst news – a time constraint on the memories just means they’ll have to be completely ready to go before they do the transfer, an easy enough demand to fill.

“So, we’re good? Because as delightful as this trip has been,” Tony tips his head to the Umama, “I wouldn’t mind getting some work done on the circuitry for the Portal Amplifying Machine, or PAM as I call her now… The sooner we get that done, the sooner we can play with the vibranium and make PAM look sexy.”

It shows how excited everyone is for their plan that nobody even comments on Tony’s unique brand of weirdness.

“I have finished discussing our plan with the leaders of each tribe, and convinced them that giving vibranium to outsiders is the best option right now. It will be delivered directly the compound tomorrow.”

“Sounds like we’re all done then,” Steve says, before striding across the room, straight to Tony. “Tony, keep in touch ok?” he says, offering a hand but Tony knocks it away with a scowl. Peter leans forward, ready to step in if it looks like Steve might retaliate in any way, but then Tony’s pulling Steve in for a hug, holding tight for two seconds before releasing him just as quickly.

Short, but meaningful.

He pats Steve on the shoulder, “We’re good, remember?” he chides, then tosses a wave back to Natasha, Sam, Bucky and Wanda before swiftly turning away to face Doctor Strange. “Chevron seven locked, right Doctor? Open the iris.”

“I have no idea about half of the things that come out of your mouth, Stark,” Doctor Strange sighs but obligingly creates a portal straight back to the lab.

Tony’s through it before anyone can get in a goodbye.

Jane and Darcy drift through, tossing farewells to the group remaining in Wakanda, followed by May.

Peter looks around at the other Avengers as Vision leaves, then offers an awkward single wave, “Well, it was, uh, nice to meet you guys? Looking forward to, uh, working together more in the future…”

Steve, Bucky, Natasha and Wanda all smile, while Sam just puts a hand over his eyes, “Just go, kid, before you make me embarrassed for you.”

He decides to ignore that comment but turns to the portal because he was going to do that anyway. Umama is standing at the door with a warm smile on her face.

“Take care of yourself, Peter,” she tells him, “And keep an eye on Shuri and T’Challa for me too, alright? They can be unbelievably stupid sometimes.”

“Umama, stop!” Shuri protests while T’Challa just rolls his eyes, clearly resigned to the treatment.

“Don’t worry, Umama, I will,” he promises, then steps through the magic doorway, missing the shock on both T’Challa and Shuri’s faces and Umama’s laugh.

 

Later that night, when everyone finally sits down for dinner, all together for once, Peter emphatically tells Rhodey about Umama.

“You do know,” Shuri starts slowly, “that Umama is not her name, right?”

“It’s not?” he asks, puzzled. “But she told me to call her Umama…”

Shuri glances to T’Challa, pleading for help with breaking the news to Peter. The King places a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Umama is actually a Xhosa word,” he tells Peter carefully. “It means ‘mother’. Umama is our mother, Ramonda, the Queen Mother of Wakanda.”

Peter’s face goes white.

“Oh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The translations of the Xhosa in this chapter! All of them were done with google so if you want to offer corrections please feel free!
> 
> Phumula, bazalwane bami. Ziindwendwe - Rest, brothers. They are guests.
> 
> Ubhuti - brother.
> 
> Bondla - feed them.
> 
> Hayi enkosi - No thank you.
> 
> I wrote almost this whole chapter before realising I’d put New York and Wakanda in the same time zone and had to quickly figure out what time things would be in each place and make changes so if anything seems off, let me know.
> 
> Lastly, if you have any complaints about the Steve Tony interactions in this chapter... how have you even got to this point in this story? You don't need to tell me that you don't like how I'm writing them, I've heard it enough now... I like how I'm writing them and that's most important!
> 
> Tumblr - breathe-then  
> Twitter - @BreatheThen


	26. Breathe, then Influence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is very late, I'm so sorry guys. I burned out a bit for a while, I ran out of Tony&Peter steam and really need to watch the movie again to find my inspiration...  
> Hope this chapter makes up for it! I was supposed to get to a later point in the plot but this grew so much bigger than it should have so we're stopping here for now...
> 
> Thank you for all your kudos, bookmarks and comments <3

Monday had started with the surge of adrenaline that meeting Secretary Ross drove through him, continued into a heart-to-heart with Tony, then ended up in Wakanda with rhinos, lions, science and, embarrassingly, another mother figure.

Tuesday, on the other hand, starts with a two hour meeting with Dr Moors then drones on into six hours of tutoring, as if he were still back at Midtown. No complaints or suggestions or straight up begging gets him out of it, and the only redeeming feature is that the last hour is done over dinner, a joint effort between Jane and Tony. They start on the first page of the textbook’s chapter on torque but explode into more and more complex applications and examples not even ten minutes in. Peter’s so thankful he can get the recording of the session from F.R.I.D.A.Y. to review later to catch up on the more complicated aspects because he was pretty sure what they’d been talking about was far beyond even undergrad physics… It almost makes up for not even being allowed to go see the Wakandan ships arriving with the vibranium.

Still, with a whole day almost wasted, he all but demands to spend the evening in the lab and when he leaves the elevator it’s to find P.A.M. already beginning to take shape, albeit with exposed wires everywhere. So far it’s a chunky ring held in a frame of thick, sturdy pipes. It’s about six foot high, so some of them will have to duck to pass through it, and at least a foot thick.

Every foot or so along the ring there’s a small hole, just big enough that Peter could probably put his fist in and pull it out again without getting stuck. There’s probably about twenty in total, and Peter can already guess that they’ll be where the amplifying discharge plates will sit.

“Take a look at the plate prototype,” Tony tells him, gesturing to a messy counter behind the large metal ring.

Peter, just to check the height, steps through the ring itself, having to duck very slightly to avoid knocking his head into the top. From inside he can see all the wires waiting to be connected to the plates, and just how complicated those connections are, with large bundles of wires for each one.

The discharge plate is deceptively simple on one side, with just a hole for the energy to be released from, while the back is a similar tangle of wires. Peter picks it up and flips it around in his hands, trying to figure out what each of the wires will be for once it’s finished.

Tony watches him for a minute, then starts fiddling around with the parts on the desk.

“You decided to have so many plates because more lower levelled input points is more stable than one big one, right?” he asks suddenly, looking up to Tony for confirmation. “Why not have a line of input points on each plate then, rather than just one big hole in the middle?” he suggests after Tony nods, pointing out the single energy release hole on the plate.

Tony blinks, “I don’t know. F.R.I.D.A.Y., why didn’t we do that?” he asks the room, puzzled.

“I don’t believe the idea came up, Mr Stark,” the A.I. replies.

Tony reaches out, taking the metal prototype from Peter and staring thoughtfully at it for a few moments before chucking it over his shoulder. It lands in the trash with a loud crash that makes Peter jump. “Huh. Good job kiddo! Let’s make a new one together then.”

“Well it’s only a small change,” Peter insists, “It probably won’t even make that much of a difference so I’m sure that one was f-”

“Fine? Pete, we need a bit more than just ‘fine’ for this, don’t you think?” he asks, one eyebrow raised expectantly when Peter doesn’t immediately move closer to the bench.

Peter thinks about what the machine they’re making is going to be used for and agrees that, yeah, it needs to be as perfect as possible. He doesn’t want to step through it only to be disintegrated into tiny particles (again) and spread over the universe in a fine layer of spider atoms. That’s why they’re using vibranium for it, after all.

“Yeah, you’re right, let’s make a new one,” he tells Tony and steps up to the bench to start pulling tools down.

Tony wraps an arm around his neck, pulling him in for a rough hug, “Have more faith in yourself, Pete, you’re smart so don’t be scared to share your thoughts. Even if you’re busy during the day, you’re still lead on this whole mission, so don’t forget that.”

Peter lets the words sink in for a moment, feeling his heart warm before nodding sincerely.

Together they whip up a new prototype to show Shuri in the morning.

 

The next few days are spent putting together first the prototype, then the final version. The tonne of vibranium delivered from Wakanda is more than enough in the end, as only the parts involved in the actual energy transfer require the unique metal.

At dinner on Friday, when almost everyone on the team are sharing pasta in the kitchen in high spirits now that P.A.M. is complete, he hears Tony charming an amused T’Challa over the unused mass, though how well it’s going is hard to tell.

“Sharing resources with the world, remember?” Tony prodded. “I shared my mother’s secret recipe with you,” he gestures to the emptied plates scattered across the table, “Which has been scientifically proven to be the best pasta in the universe, and you share your vibranium with me? Just a little. I’d say you’re getting the better deal here!”

T’Challa laughs and smiles, but only replies with “We will see.”

Peter thinks that, for a joking proposal from Tony, the response suggests there’s more possibility of Tony keeping the vibranium than he’d thought.

Whatever Tony would have said in response is lost when Pepper and May arrive, the last of the team to join them, files in hand but whichever deadly shoes the CEO had been wearing to take on the world today long gone.

“You’d better have left some of that for us,” Pepper teases as she curls around Tony’s shoulder to press a soft kiss to his cheek. Peter flushes when she presses one to his temple as May ruffles his hair. “What’s the occasion?” she asks when she straightens, taking in the smiles on everyone’s faces, “Tony _never_ cooks, something must have happened.”

“We finished P.A.M.,” Peter says, excitedly, as they take seats opposite him. “No guarantees she’ll work but-”

Tony and Shuri both object to his uncertainties. Loudly. It must be nice to have that much confidence.

“Well, I’ve got some more good news,” May smirks at him across the table and Peter feels completely justified in the way his anxiety peaks – he knows that expression, it never bodes well. “Peter, my little nerdy boy,” she pauses for effect, “You’re pretty much everyone’s favourite superhero right now, so I guarantee you won’t ever have to worry about finding a date ever again, you can take literally _anyone_.”

And with that she throws open the file in her hands, scattering countless newspaper pages, magazine covers and copies of website articles across the table. From gossip rags to the New York Times.

Peter grabs at those closest before they even hit the surface with desperation. Even after doing his first interview, then the unexpected visit from Ross, he’s been under an extensive media blackout. He has the twitter and Instagram Tony had set up for him, but even on them anything he’s tagged in is filtered through F.R.I.D.A.Y. first so barely anything gets through.

It’s not the worst, Ned and MJ are giving him vague updates, and he’s quite frankly too focused on everything else going on to care that much about how the world views him.

But still, he can’t quite stamp out the curiosity that suddenly blazes to the forefront of his brain when offered information from the outside world. He flicks through the first few in his hands, and his face burns.

**_ B _ ** _ rains, **L** ooks and **T** houghtfulness – Peter Parker, the White Bread BLT. _

It’s possibly the most try-hard title he’s ever read, he’d be embarrassed for the writer if he wasn’t too busy pitying himself. Next.

_ The Future of Stark Industries? Has Tony Stark chosen an heir? _

Peter sneakily glances to Tony, who’s chuckling while reading through another article. Neither of them had discussed… and even though he was calling Tony… that didn’t mean that… never mind. It would come up if it came up, he decides and flicks to the next page.

_ Peter Parker – The Representation America Needs _

Wow, ok, definitely an exaggeration but an incredibly kind one so he’s not going to object… He glances down what has been printed of the article, scans the reaction tweets quoted in it with a smile and then decides to save it for later, and read the article in full.

He moves on to the last one in his hands.

_ There’s Nothing Itsy-Bitsy About This Spider _

His good mood vanishes, replaced instead with a queasy feeling in his gut. The mortifying words are emblazoned across an image of him in the full suit, face hidden behind the mask, but staring somewhere off to the side. It’s a surprisingly clear photo, for one that must have been taken of him mid-patrol, pre-time-travel. It’s clear enough that comments in little bubbles like ‘dem thighs!’ and ‘washboard abs!’ are actually visible in the picture, highlighted by cute, curly arrows.

It’s not the first article to mention his appearance, but the others had just made him embarrassed, not this strange nausea bubbling in his stomach.

“What’s that one, Pete? You’ve been staring at it for over a minute now.”

Before he can try to reply, or possibly even tuck the humiliation headline away, Tony plucks it from his hands and glances over it.

He braces for a teasing comment, like some of the other articles had already elicited from the rest of the team, but Tony merely glances over it for a moment before putting it face down on the table and picking another up in its place.

“Have a look at this one, they talked to a bunch of people on the streets and actually managed to stumble across your churro lady!”

He takes the article hesitantly, glancing from it, to Tony, to the facedown paper on the table, but when Tony just raises an eyebrow, holding the paper even closer, so Peter takes it and starts to scan through the text.

It is a good article, and the quotations from people they’ve talked to fill him with a giddy warmth that replaces the queasiness, but he can’t stop glancing to the confiscated paper until he catches Tony tucking it into a pocket when he thinks Peter’s not looking.

 

They sneak away during the movie the whole group sets down to watch – Kingsman, because there’s nothing wrong with some gratuitous violence, farfetched plotlines and witty one-liners – Tony and May disappearing to the kitchen when they think nobody’s paying them any attention. They’re not nearly as subtle as they think they are, even Darcy notices them leaving (or it could just be that Darcy’s way more observant than anyone gives her credit for, Peter’s still not really sure how much of her character is a façade).

Peter, however, is much more adept at sneaking out a minute later when the room on the TV starts to fill with water drawing everyone’s (except Darcy again, dammit!) attention.

He follows the sound of their steps through the kitchen to a conference room further down the hall, beyond Peter’s hearing range if he’d stayed to watch the movie.

He stops at the door, peering round just far enough to see.

“You missed this one from the blacklist pile,” Tony says, handing the sheet back to her.

May frowns down at it, browns slightly furrowed, “It’s not the best article, but it’s much better than some of them were,” she mumbles.

“Being better than other articles isn’t good enough May!” he takes a half step forward and May takes a larger one back. Peter scans her face intently but she’s not scared, just startled. A moment later Tony tucks his frustration back under his tight control and continues, “You need to remember you’re working for me now, not some small office in Queens,” there’s nothing demeaning in his voice, just straight truths, “That means you have the power to take on any newspaper, magazine or gossip rag that publishes any bad stories like this, not just the worst ones! We have the power right now and we need to show them that we’re going to keep it and not let people get away with shit like this, alright? Peter’s got his Instagram and twitter now but he’s not getting the highs and lows of dealing with the media yet – thank god the overwhelming majority are in love with him.”

“But-”

Tony doesn’t let her get a word in, “This sort of shit,” he waves angrily at the page in her hands, “Has become so normalised, you don’t even realise how bad it is! Pete’s 15, yeah it’s pretty normal now-a-days for kids that age to start experimenting, maybe even having sex, but to have magazines speculating over how big his junk is? If he were still at school just now you know he wouldn’t be able to walk down a hall without getting comments about it, especially with the dumb name that ass-wipe Flash was calling him. We let things like this continue, and there’s be good money on offer for anyone who can get a picture to back them up, and there _are_ a lot of people out there lacking just enough morals to try to take them.”

There’s a hollowness to his voice that both of them clearly pick up on, Peter shifting slightly, debating revealing himself to the room.

May speaks before he can make a decision, “Is this… Are you speaking from your own experience here, Tony?” She speaks slowly, choosing her words carefully.

“Well, I was over seventeen at the time, so that makes it less sleazy, right? My stellar reputation as a slut wasn’t fully earned by me, I had a lot of help along the way.”

He shrugs, quick and uncaring, staring away from May. Peter wonders if he even realises his distant gaze is directed towards where the alcohol is stashed.

“I’m sorry Tony, I didn’t realise…” she trails off and they both stand like forgotten statues, several feet apart in the empty room.

Peter doesn’t even both pretending he hadn’t been listening in the whole time, “I don’t like that one, May,” Peter says, taking a quick step around the door frame, revealing himself to the two startled adults. “It made me feel uncomfortable, that people all over America will be thinking about, uh, my body…”

“Oh Pete,” she strides to him, sweeping him into a hug, “I should have realised, I’m sorry I let you see it at all,” she presses a kiss to the crown of his head. “I’m not doing a very good job of monitoring the media for you, am I?”

“You’re doing great, I promise. I don’t know what the other ones said, but if they’re worse than that I don’t want to see them. Thanks for taking care of them for me. But we can talk more about it, discuss things like this one together instead of you just having to guess how I would feel… I never meant to just leave you to deal with it all, I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok sweetie, you’ve got so many other, more important things to worry about, I’m happy taking care of this for you, I promise. But maybe, we could have a few more chats about anything I’m uncertain about over food a bit more often? All three of us,” she adds with a pointed but fond look over at Tony, “since you are clearly the expert on media relations.”

Tony snorts in disbelieve as he steps closer until he’s right beside the pair, “Whoever told you that was a lying liar, definitely wasn’t Pepper as she’d tell you right in front of me how much of a PR nightmare I am for her to deal with. I do remember exactly what it was like though, growing up, being a teenager with the whole world watching your every move. Not experience I’d ever imagine using again, but I’m glad to finally have a use for it now.”

 

Peter doesn’t get to see the rest of the movie but he’s seen it before anyway, and spending time with May and Tony, even while discussing lawsuits and a set of general limits for what he is ok with seeing in newspapers, well, he’d take them any day.

In the end, he retreats to his room earlier than usual, with a few more of the articles to read through – one from a magazine, one from online (Buzzfeed, his new best friend), and one from a newspaper.

He flops down on his bed and spreads them out to read.

 

 

> _ Peter Parker - The Boy You’d Bring Home To Mother  
>  _ **People Magazine**
> 
> _Let’s face it – literally everyone wants to be dating the newest superhero on the block. Peter Parker might be a fresh face in the Avengers, but he’s been swinging through Queens – my own neighbourhood – for well over a year now, and those who’ve been following his works – including yours truly of course, gotta rep the homeboi! – knew from the start that he was going to be big. Before he swung into the mainstream with his (now obviously) Stark-made suit, he was making ripples in a red and blue onesie, offering directions to lost tourists, saving the odd bicycle from theft and, yes, even rescuing kittens from trees. Combine that with his boyish good looks, angelic smile and genius mind and he shoots up to number one of most-dateable list!_
> 
> _So what do we actually know about Peter Parker’s past? And what tips, tricks and suggestions do we have for catching the attention of the cutest Avenger?_
> 
> _Well, Peter Parker grew up in……._
> 
>  
> 
> __
> 
> _ From Queens to Avengers HQ – Why Peter Parker is the Hottest Avenger Right Now  
>  _ **Buzzfeed**
> 
> _Any New Yorker knows how it is – the friendly borough rivalries; the taunts, the heckles, the pride. For decades now, Brooklyn has had that slight advantage, the scale-tipper, the bragging rights: “Yeah, but Captain America was born in Brooklyn.”_
> 
> **_Picture of Captain America from his time serving during WWII._ **
> 
> _It’s hard to counter, how would one argue against a man beloved by the whole world (jury’s still out on the most recent debacle). The answer – you couldn’t._
> 
> _But now, the tides are turning._
> 
> _Queens finally has its own response – Peter Parker._
> 
> **_Picture from Peter’s official Instagram – a picture of him and May eating hot dogs._ **
> 
> _It’s hard not to love his cheeky smile and floppy hair, or the beautiful paternal relationship springing up between Parker and Stark._
> 
> _Or the way he can cuddle puppies while still giving sincere, well-thought out responses on sensitive topics (you’re welcome, btw)._
> 
> **_Picture of Peter with an arm full of pupper._ **
> 
> _Just take a look at his most recent Instagram posts to get a glimpse of how much of an innocent cinnamon roll he truly is (and the thousands of comments on each one to see just how much people adore him)._
> 
> _Picture of Peter and Tony in matching shades, making Spider-Man gestures, taken outside Midtown School of Science and Technology._
> 
> **_Spider-Man: Just, you know, chilling on an Audi with @Iron-Man (ohmygodohmygodohmygod)_ **
> 
> **_Iron-Man: @Spider-Man What did I tell you about being cool?_ **
> 
> **_Spide-boi: @Spider-Man Just look at how happy they both look!! I didn’t realise how empty my life was until I saw Peter Parker’s smile._ **
> 
> **_Juliaspod: @Spider-Man You’re living the dream right now!_ **
> 
> **_Kingsmight: @Spider-Man is all of us, trying to play it cool while freaking out on the inside_ **
> 
> **_Bailey_Cross: @Spider-Man @Iron-Man Ok but how long has it been since we saw Tony Stark smile like this? (too long)_ **
> 
> _Picture of Peter with two school-mates, the girl staring balefully into the camera while the two boys smile.  
>  **Spider-Man: With my guy in the chair and bro with the glare.**_
> 
> **_Sketchesofhighschoolhell: @Spider-Man you’re lucky I know and accept that that’s a gender-neutral bro…_ **
> 
> **_redrhymeswithned: @Spider-Man This is the coolest moment of my life do you think Mr Stark would take a selfie with me?_ **
> 
> **_Iron-Man: @Spider-Man @redrhymeswithned I don’t do selfies, but I have been known to photobomb so watch out…_ **
> 
> **_Hailleen: @Spider-Man @redrhymeswithned @Iron-Man The IRONy of saying that just days after your father-son selfie…_ **
> 
> ****
> 
> _Picture of Peter getting his nails done in alternating red and blue by an unknown brunette in her mid-twenties._
> 
> **_Spider-Man: Get yourself an older friend/sibling figure who is good for everything. Need your nails done? No problem! Want to eat junk food and talk about boys? Yup. Need a body disposed of? …pretty sure I saw her digging holes earlier…_ **
> 
> **_Redfool: @Spider-Man Get yourself a superhero who doesn’t care about gender norms and is comfortable with his sexuality._ **
> 
> **_FindingZemo: @Spider-Man I don’t know who this lady is but I need at least one of her in my life._ **
> 
> **_HarringtonPride: @Spider-Man Thank you for speaking so openly about your sexuality. We love you as you are._ **
> 
> **_JasonFranks: @Spider-Man please speak more candidly about your sexuality, your passing comments so far are just teasing everyone!_ **
> 
> **_NadineBowers: @JasonFranks @Spider-Man he’s 15 years old ffs, he can talk about it more when he wants to!_ **
> 
> **_DeadAir: @JasonFranks @Spider-Man @NadineBowers yeah the kid literally came out as a superhero, then days later as LGBT+ Give him a minute to breathe!!!_ **
> 
> **_HannisonAlligon: @Spider-Man …is this an allusion to the video on twitter? Cause I gotta say, not sure many would object to burying Sec. Ross right now…_ **
> 
> _Video of Webber shaking hands with someone off-screen, presumably Peter. **  
> Spider-Man: Who’s a good boy? #pitbullsofinstagram**_
> 
> **_GoodBoy: @Spider-Man Is it me?_ **
> 
> **_Spiderpup: @Spider-Man honestly not sure if it’s Webber or Peter that’s the good boy…_ **
> 
> **_pitbullsofinstagram: @Spider-Man @Spiderpup it’s definitely both._ **
> 
> ****
> 
> _(Sorry Manhattan, Staten Island and The Bronx, maybe you’ll get your hero one day…)_
> 
>  
> 
> _ How Peter Parker Changed the Accords (Just By Existing)  
>  _ **The New York Times**
> 
> _Public opinion is a hard mountain to conquer but a slippery slope to disgrace at the first misstep, but not often does it change as quickly as it has with regards to the Sokovia Accords in the past week. The complete about-face in support, compared by some political analysist to Watergate, and by celebrity news pundits to that one time that Tom Cruise went crazy on Oprah’s couch, has two faces at the forefront of it: the innocent beguiles of young superhero Peter Parker, and the ugly belligerence of Secretary of State Thaddeus Ross._
> 
> _Starting on Monday, Parker swung public opinion to his side during his puppy interview with Buzzfeed. Now with over 59 million views, the loveable teen charmed the viewers with his humble explanations of his relationship with Tony Stark, his tragic backstory, and the genuine love he showered on the pups. It wasn’t until half way through the interview that discussion turned to the Accords and Parker, shockingly, confessed that, with the benefit of hindsight, he now believes he had been on the wrong side of the conflict. There’s nothing more humbling that someone admitting that they were wrong; so much so that, without any external pressure pushing him to the realisation, it’s clear a lot of soul-searching occurred before the interview._
> 
> _If that weren’t enough, the simple and heartfelt breakdown of his own mistakes in judgement, and the repercussions the Accords will have on the future of heroics was enough to make all but the most ardent supports of the Accords re-evaluate their own opinions._
> 
> _However, one of those most ardent supports comes in the form of Secretary Ross who appeared the very same day in perhaps the biggest mistake of his career, summarised most clearly in the words “They are not human.”_
> 
> _Ross had clearly gained a lot with the emergence of the Accords last year. While originally proposed by the late King T’Chaka of Wakanda, Ross was quick to hop on board and loud enough to have people associate his name with them. As the Secretary of State, the highest ranking American involved, he was also given the task of explaining the Accords and the process from that point forward to the Avengers._
> 
> _There are questions as to how well he fulfilled that task: as is often the case, some agreed with the Accords, some disagreed and whether that was because of Ross, we won’t know until someone speaks out. However, at this point in time, disagreements should not have been a problem. With some Avengers on board, there should have been a review process to make improvements that would encourage the other Avengers to sign, since they had only been shown the documents days before the signing. Working together, to improve the Accords, would have been the next logical step._
> 
> _And that’s when everything blew up in their faces._
> 
> _And Ross was on-hand to take advantage of the carnage._
> 
> _Amongst the chaos, Ross was able to take control of the remaining Avengers, despite that not being within his purview as Secretary of State._
> 
> _And thus the Accords fell to ruin. As Peter Parker so aptly pointed out, how could anyone trust them again, when their sole function, to provide impartial oversight to the Avengers, had already been so easily ignored?_
> 
> _But Thaddeus Ross could have sat quietly. He could have said that what he did was in the heat of the moment, and with the best intentions at heart. He could have acted contrite and let the whole thing blow over. He’d have had to give up on the Accords, but his position would have been safe._
> 
> _Instead, he made his way straight to the Avengers Facility and straight into a heated, live-streamed discussion with Tony Stark, Peter Parker and, ultimately, May Parker._
> 
> _Are the Accords’ failings entirely on Thaddeus Ross’ shoulders? No. Did he commandeer the Accords for his own personal schemes? Most likely, and that’s the biggest problem._
> 
> _Only three days later, a petition calling for Secretary Ross’ resignation has been signed by over two million people, with anonymous sources at the White House saying internal pressure has been mounting for him to leave before he is released._
> 
> _Furthermore, on twitter #DoWeHaveAnAccord has been tweeted over fifteen million times, all around the globe, and the UN council has put the Accords on ice while a thorough review is carried out._
> 
> _Whether the Accords will ever be defrosted again is yet to be seen, however two things are certain – the time of Secretary Ross is coming to an end, and none of this would have happened at all if not for the honest reflections and self-recrimination of Peter Parker._

 

 

Peter goes to sleep with a smile that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confession time - the only Marvel I haven't seen is The Hulk so writing Ross without that has been a bit harder.  
> Also I have no idea about whether posting speculative and suggestive articles about minors is illegal in America, I just assume it is but can't find any info so if it's not well Tony will find some other way to punish them...
> 
> Lastly Ant-Man and the Wasp doesn't come out here until the end of August so please don't mention any spoilers in the comments!!!


	27. Breathe, then Persevere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been over six months. I'm sorry. Thank you eternally for all the support while I've been away, so many of your reviews made me happy on difficult days! I hope this chapter was worth the wait but all I can say is... I'm trying.

The whole compound was tense, like a rope with weights attached to either end, resting over a bladed edge, just ready to snap with the slightest friction. Nowhere was it tenser than in the kitchen.

The room was silent when Peter entered, the five other members of the team spread around the room, each with a bubble of space around them as if opposing magnetic forces held them apart. T’Challa was reading through some notes in Xhosa that projected from one of the beads at his wrist; Shuri had her own tablet instead, her eyes scanning frantically across the page as a finger tapped thrice against its edge and then swiped to the next page. _Tap, tap, tap, swipe. Tap, tap, tap, swipe._ Repeating constantly. Her other hand was clenched around an empty coffee mug, as if she had simply forgotten to let it go. Or maybe she was waiting for Darcy, shifting restlessly by the pot, to bring her some more. The last two people were sat at the table, at opposite ends with papers spread around them. Peter took a seat beside Pepper, who seemed the least affected by the stress plaguing the room. A bowl of fruit was pushed in front of him before a small, well-manicured hand squeezed his shoulder. He let her calm presence sink through his clothes into the skin under her hand and spread throughout his body. Peter closed his eyes and took a deep breath before turning to the last member of the room.

Hope was already staring back at him.

Peter had never expected to meet anyone that was more of a businesswoman than Pepper, and he still hadn’t. But he hadn’t expected to meet anyone who _equalled_ her either and Hope certainly did. It was, perhaps, most startling in terms of her blank expressions that gave away none of her thoughts, if only because Pepper didn’t ever look at him with that face.

That expression only lasted a second before she relaxed into a soft, gentle smile. “Are you nervous?”

Peter expected the sound to feel stark in the otherwise silence of the room, even Shuri wasn’t muttering under her breath for once. Instead it felt warm.

He opened his mouth to reply, but nothing that came to mind felt right, not with the rest of the room listening in. Suddenly it felt as if the pressure had increased. Today was the day they would test P.A.M., test the theory he’d created to help them reach Asgard and take a step towards stopping Thanos. If everything failed today, it would be his fault. Of course he was nervous, but he didn’t need the rest of the team to hear him admit _I’m so nervous that I might vomit and cry_. He closed his mouth and nodded.

Pepper’s hand shifted from his shoulder to the back of his neck, pressing and pulling at the skin between her fingers and her thumb.

“You don’t have to be,” Hope promised with a soft smile.

A cynical scoff fell from his lips before he could try to stop it.

“Of course I do. If this fails…” he trailed off because even trying to think of what would happen then was too much.

Hope picked up the sentence and twisted his implied ending. “If this fails, you’ll find another way. Thought I’m loath to admit it, I trust in Stark, and, more to the point, Shuri definitely won’t let anyone just admit defeat-”

“You bet I won’t!”

“-when the universe is at stake. We all have too much to live for.”

Peter didn’t look around but he felt his back straighten slightly when the whole room weighed in with sounds of agreements, and Darcy’s “Yeah, like coffee!”

“Remember Peter, even when you lose confidence, the rest of us believe in you.”

Hope’s eyes were so sincere he couldn’t force himself to duck his head even when he felt the blood rushing to his cheeks. Instead he swallowed, his throat suddenly arid, and nodded almost in a daze.

He dropped his gaze back to his fruit as Hope quickly pulling her papers together into a neat pile that she slipped into a black file.

“I have a message for you, actually,” she added as she stood, drawing Peter’s attention once more. “From Scott,” then, in response to his confused expression, “Ant-Man.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry. There’s a lot of new names going around. It’ll take a while to remember them all…”

Hope offered a half smile, “He’s not that important, he’s a bit of an idiot,” she insisted. “But it’s an important message so I said I’d pass it along.”

She paused, and Peter nodded slightly too her, to show he was paying attention.

“Thank you.”

“Umm? You’re welcome?” Peter offered, confused.

“That was his message, he says thank you. For what you’ve done about the accords,” she clarified. “A U.N. representative is visiting him tomorrow, but it looks like his house arrest is about to be cut short.”

“That’s awesome!” Peter cried, finally feeling some cheer that had been missing since he woke. “But I didn’t really-”

“You know the best people?” Hope asked, cutting him off as she glided around the table and headed for the door. “They’re the ones who help without even meaning to, because they don’t even need to try to be good, they just are and it shows.”

Peter picked up a blueberry as her heels clicked down the hall, a small, gratified smile on his face.

  
  


“Good morning, Pete!” Tony called the moment he stepped into the lab. Pepper hadn’t let him go until he ate the whole bowl of fruit and took a slice of toast with him. Only then had she admitted that Tony was in the labs, letting Peter fill in the rest - that Tony was probably running and rerunning the calculations for the portal to Asgard. His heart had skipped a beat then picked up the pace on his way to the lab as the tension immediately stiffened his shoulders.

Jane glanced up at him, then immediately continued grabbing a range of things off her desk. “Can you do me a favour and take a look at this?”

Peter almost tripped in his haste to cross the room and help, dodging around Jane at the last second as she headed in the opposite direction, a mess of papers in her arms. It was unusual for Tony to be using a screen instead of a holographic display, but he moved back to let Peter in.

Peter took a glance at the computer and his brow furrowed with confusion.

“Tony… is this…?”

“Hm?” Tony asked, eyes fixed on the screen. There was no data. No science. No maths. Instead it showed a video of the front door of a house. One Peter recognised.

“Are you watching _cat videos_?!” he shrieked, just as a fluffy, white paw shot through the mail slot to attack the mailman’s hand.

“Yup,” Tony replied, unhesitantly. “We’ll do dog ones next.”

“But what about…” he gestured widely around, the motion encompassing the entire room, “today?!”

“Today,” Tony said, mimicking Peter’s gesture much more calmly, “Will be alright, I promise. Everything will be fine.” He held up a quick hand, and gave Peter a firm look when he went to object. “Everything will be fine,” he restated, even more firmly, “So you need to calm down and breathe.”

“But what about all the checks? The safety parameters? All the calculations we haven’t done yet?” Peter couldn’t help but ask, his voice becoming more harried with each word.

Tony shrugged, “Shuri, Jane and Vision can do it. _We_ are going to relax, maybe take Webber out for a real run somewhere, and then we can have an early lunch and _then_ we can help out with setting P.A.M. up.”

There was no nonsense or give in his tone so Peter resigned himself to the real-life version of the Baby Monitor Protocol with an angry sigh. “Fine,” he whined, drawing the vowel out like a kid, “But I’m helping with the set up.”

It wasn’t a question but Tony nodded easily, “Of course, P.A.M. is your baby, I won’t get between you then.”

Peter could point out that he was getting between them now, or that him, Shuri and Jane had done a lot more of the work for her than he did, but right then it didn’t feel worth the argument.

Plus Tony had picked a really good cat compilation video.

 

 

Taking Webber for a walk turned out to be a great distraction, perhaps too good of one as by the time they made it back to the compound everyone else had already finished lunch and was waiting for them. But, even despite the whole room of frowns when Peter offered to just skip the meal, the small break left him feeling almost… positive… about the day as he scarfed down a bowl of leftover pasta.

 

 

As P.A.M. was slowly pieced back together - in a side lab because no way was Tony going to risk his personal space - that sense of calm and optimism started to slip away. Thick cables cluttered the floor and more and more people arrived, drawn away from whatever business they had elsewhere to see for themselves whether the plan would work. It got even worse when Doctor Strange opened a portal to Wakanda, straight into a full meeting room. Most of the people present were Wakandan including, to Peter’s greatest embarrassment, Ramonda, the Queen Mother who greeted him by name with a smile.

Peter stuttered over a response, not certain what to call her in front of so many other people, before settling on a strained “Umama,” which earned another smile from her and a few choked coughs of surprised from the rest of the room.

His view of her, in her resplendent white robes, was blocked when two members of the Avengers group moved forward towards the portal and stepped through to America.

“We’ll be watching on the feed,” Captain Rogers called once Wanda and Natasha were through, “Good luck.”

“We don’t need your luck Rogers,” Tony shot back teasingly before Doctor Strange snapped the portal shut again without so much as a by your leave.

“If you’re done flirting,” he mocked, making Tony splutter in indignation, “Ms Maximoff, Dr Foster, shall we?”

He gestured to the door and, for once, pulled it open and led the way through to the next room on foot, rather than whip open a portal.

“He’s saving himself,” Darcy said, suddenly appearing at Peter’s elbow and making him jump, then splutter nervously over her implicative statement. “He was trying to figure out how much energy a portal to Asgard would take when I went to his lair but couldn’t even guess, so he’s saving his energy to be safe.”

“The arc reactor will be powering it, Snape doesn’t need to worry,” Tony refuted as he finished fitting the last of the improved output plates into the ring that would contain P.A.M.’s portal to Asgard and stepped back with a satisfied nod.

“He still needs to open the portal by himself; better safe than sorry,” Darcy shrugged before meandering away again, poking at a few loose parts with a pen.

“You’re sure everything’s set up alright?” Peter asked anxiously, turning to Tony.

Hands took him by the shoulders, gently maneuvering him backwards and then down onto a stool. “Everything’s fine. I checked it, Jane checked it, Shuri checked it, Vision checked it and _you_ checked it. There’s no way this machine isn’t going to work Pete so take some deep breaths and try to relax, ok?”

Peter appreciated the effort, but Tony’s reassurances came a bit too quickly for even the fast-talking mechanic.

An apple, randomly lying on the desk beside them, was shoved into his hands.

“Here, eat this.”

“Tony I just ate lunch,” Peter protested.

“Growing boys, food, something something…”

“I’m seven - sixteen! Not twelve, I’m not still growing.”

Tony looked down at him from where he was standing in front of Peter’s stool, eyebrows raised. “I hope you’re still growing.”

“You haven’t really got a leg to stand on there, old man!” Peter argued, flushing with embarrassment. “Maybe someone could find you a stool though.”

“Boys!” Pepper strode over with a barely-concealed grin, pushing Tony back onto his own stool before squeezing herself between the two of them, a hand on either’s head. “Behave, no squabbling before opening magical portals, that’s the rule.”

Neither got to chance to respond as Doctor Strange breezed back through the door, Jane dashing back to her computer as Wanda slipped along the wall to watch.

“Are you ready, Stark?” he demanded, and in an instant all of them were back on their feet again, darting back to their positions. The memory transfer had been much quicker than they’d expected, given that in Wakanda they’d been gone for over an hour.

“Ready!” Jane called from her workspace.

“Everything’s good here,” Shuri assured the room.

“Ready when you are, kid,” Tony promised, holding his gaze with a smirk, “You ready to meet some aliens?”

“It’s _Thor_ , dad. He’s, like, the best avenger!” Peter barely even noticed the people almost lining the whole wall of the room as he turned from an offended Tony to a slightly smirking Doctor Strange. “Alright Doctor. We’re going to turn P.A.M. on. F.R.I.D.A.Y. is in control of the arc reactor but it is ready to latch on to your magic spell as soon as it starts so all you have to do is create the spark, alright?”

“We’ve been through it all before, kid. I have a sudoku to finish so if we could…”

Peter turned back to his computer with a laugh, setting the final controls in place before pausing with his finger over the trigger.

“Are you ready, F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

“I was born ready,” the A.I. quipped.

“Ok then.”

His finger moved closer to the button. It quivered slightly, hovering an inch from the screen.

A hand slipped into his and the other squeezed around his shoulder as a body pressed along his back.

“It’s ok, sweetie. It’ll be fine,” May promised in a whisper.

Peter forced his hand to still, “Yeah, it will,” he agreed before pressing the button.

 

 

A low hum was the only sign that anything had changed, but, until given direction, P.A.M. wouldn’t respond any further.

“She’s all yours, Doctor Strange.”

He nodded, stepping closer to the metallic ring that had taken a week to create using five of the smartest minds on Earth.

Even the normally cool and calm sorcerer took a moment to collect himself before raising his hands into the air, a mere foot from the centre of P.A.M.

Peter had lost count of how many portals he’d watched the man make now, but each of them had involved the swiftest of motions, not even a hint of strain.

This time his eyes were pressed firmly closed before he even began, a grimace twisting his face before he even moved his hands. When they did move, almost a full minute later, the action was slow; sluggish. It looked almost as if he was fighting to move it through the air.

There was no sparks. The air within P.A.M.’s ring seemed to twist behind his hand, like metal warping under extreme heat. Peter hoped with everything he had that F.R.I.D.A.Y. wasn’t too busy controlling P.A.M. that she couldn’t take readings of what was happening in the lab right then too.

For the longest of seconds after his hand had completed a full circle nothing changed. The air was hot and heavy, and Peter could feel sweat building across his brow and around his neck where his t-shirt was suddenly rubbing irritatingly against his skin, but nothing seemed to change.

Then… slowly…

The air melted away.

The hum from P.A.M. escalated into a roaring drone, reminiscent of an aeroplane engine. Like a vacuum, the lethargic portal was dragged towards the output plates, stretching to fill the ring’s diameter.

“I have control of the portal,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. declared to the room and Doctor Strange’s whole body sagged, a pained wheeze leaving his mouth, barely audible over P.A.M. He caught himself with his hands pressed into his knees rather than falling forwards onto his face or, worse, into the portal.

Jane, closest to him, quickly wrapped an arm around his chest, pulling him back and into the chair she’d jumped out of.

With him out of the way, the whole room could see through P.A.M.

For a moment, Peter couldn’t believe his eyes. He stood up, taking one hesitant step after another until he stood right in front of the chasm that tore through the universe.

It was…

It was…

“No…” he whispered brokenly, staring into the pitch black hole in empty space.

 

 

“Shut it down, F.R.I.,” Peter heard Tony call, but it was as if he were drowning, water blocking his ears and pushing the air from his lungs.

The black chasm disappeared, leaving him staring through the metal ring to the other side of the lab.

Someone grasped him by the shoulders suddenly, dragging him back and down. His whole body fell limply to the floor, legs splaying awkwardly around him as two strong arms wrapped tightly around his chest, drawing him back into a chest.

It was only when May’s distressed face appeared right before him, her lips moving silently and face twisted with worry, that he noticed the black creeping across his vision.

He tried to focus, but with each second more of his sight disappeared, his range of vision getting smaller and smaller, focused on May’s terrified face and even that started to vanish.

He focused on her lips, trying to read the frantic words she was saying but nothing made sense. Nothing was translating from his eyes to his brain. He couldn’t - He couldn’t -

_Snap_.

Peter’s eyes shot wide open against the weights that had been pushing his lids lower with a sudden gasp of terror.

By the time his brain caught up, his whole weight was hanging from his fingertips and toes, looking down at Tony and May from the ceiling.

“He’s here,” he choked, “I heard him, it’s all over!”

“Pete,” Tony called, soft yet firm as May tried to gather herself, “He’s not here, Thanos is still very far away, I promise.”

Peter shook his head desperately, “No, he’s hear, I heard it. I heard him snap his fingers, he’s here.”

His gaze, frantically scouring the room from one side to the other in search of the titan, darted back to May when she let out an anguished cry.

“Th-that was me, sweetheart,” she said, stammering over the words. “I’m s-so sorry. But I promise it-it’s ok! Will you come back down?”

She reached both hands up towards him, as if expected him to drop down straight into her arms. Peter took one more look around the room, staring distrustingly at the door, before dropping back to his feet without a sound.

The two adults were on him instantly, arms wrapping back around him from either side but as different as could be.

Tony felt completely stiff, one hand wrapped around his chest, pressed directly over his heart and his face burrowing desperately into his hair.

May’s hands were clutching into his back like claws and her face was hidden in his neck, smushing her tears into his skin. Apologies were pouring from her mouth, “I’m so sorry sweetheart, I am so so sorry. I was just so scared, you looked empty, I was scared. I didn’t think, I just wanted you back again, I’m so sorry. I’ll never click my fingers again, I swear.”

The fear curled around his heart lessened very slightly with the realisation that she had just clicked her fingers at him to try to bring him back to reality. There was no Thanos. He was still safe.

It felt like lifting the warehouse off himself again, finding the strength to lift his hand to her back and fight past the lead weight of his tongue.

“Aunt May... “ he whispered and his heart wanted to promise her that it was ok, that everything was fine.

But it wasn’t. “It didn’t work. What do we do?”

  

  


“We try again,” Tony had said when Peter felt completely hopeless. With the words it had felt like Tony’s brain had restarted, and he’d led the three of them back to his own rooms, pushed Peter and May onto the bed and then pulled a tablet out and shuffled in on the other side of Peter.

“There’s a tablet for you too, when you’re ready,” he’d told Peter even as his eyes started racing through pages of P.A.M.’s codes and calculations.

Peter hadn’t felt like he was worthy of trying to help so instead he’d buried further into the bedding, hiding his face and focusing on each breath as it filled his lungs and then released. Aunt May’s fingers were hypnotic as they threaded through his hair over and over again in time with his breaths.

“You know Peter,” Tony said, finally breaking the silence when the sun painted the room in oranges and purples, “Being a superhero isn’t about always winning, it’s about never giving up, no matter how many times you’re beaten.”

The words struck like arrows to his heart. He turned, slightly, just enough to peer up at the man sitting beside him, watching his brows furrow and eyes slide from one side to another and back again, like an old-fashioned typewriter.

Aunt May’s hand fell still against his head, not moving an inch as he watched Tony work for minute after minute.

“Dad?” he finally whispered, making Tony pause for the first time, “Will everything be ok?”

Tony’s mouth thinned and his eyes pinched at the corners and Peter felt his breath catch again, bracing himself for a negative response.

Then he relaxed and smiled.

“Everything will be ok if you make it ok, Peter. We’ve all got to work for it, but I have faith in you.”

Peter pondered that silently, feeling the warmth that filled his heart at Tony’s trust in him spreading through his body until Tony suddenly shifted, standing from the bed and letting several of his joints crack as he stretched.

“Shall we get dinner? Your team’s waiting for you.”

Well, when he said it like that, Peter didn’t really have much of a choice, did he?

 

 

The room went still when Peter walked in and he felt overwhelmingly embarrassed at the fact that they had witnessed yet another of his panic attacks.

He forced past it though. “Well, it didn’t work. Anyone have any ideas why?” he asked, trying to appear as unaffected as possible as he grabbed several slices of pizza from the counter and stacked them into a sandwich.

Shuri was first off the mark.

“I’ve been looking through the calculations and-”

“It looks like the power supply-” Tony started.

“Perhaps the relays could be-” Jane suggested more quietly.

“If it were the relays the portal wouldn’t have even formed,” Tony pointed out.

“Well if it were the power supply then-” Shuri started to reply but Peter cut them all off.

“Ok, so you think it was P.A.M. that was the problem?” he asked loud enough to be heard over the three of them. If that was the problem, they could fix it. The three of them were geniuses in their own right, they’d find the problems and everything would be ok.

“It wasn’t,” another voice declared from the doorway, and Peter turned to see Doctor Strange staggering in, looking exhausted.

Hope, closest to the door, quickly stood up to let him take her seat.

“You think it was something else, doctor?” Peter asked once he was seated.

“It was me,” he admitted with a grimace, “Or the memories at least. They didn’t feel right, not the way Dr Foster’s earlier memories had. Making a portal normally involves a clear image of your destination, or the feel of it at least if an exact place isn’t important. The memories of Asgard I received from Jane weren’t enough. They were hazy, full of holes. It was like everything was shrouded in smoke whilst the memories of New Mexico settled into my head as if they were my own. I don’t know what the problem is, perhaps Asgardian magic interfered. More likely, the memories were tainted by the Reality Stone.” Even suggesting his theory seemed to drain most of Doctor Strange’s remaining energy and he sunk forward, leaning his elbows onto the table and letting his face rest in his hands as he continued. “Dr Foster was host to the Reality Stone during her time on Asgard. I would posit that, either it created a layer of interference over the memories, leaving them twisted, or the effect it had on her brain at the time interfered with the hippocampus, preventing it from creating long-term memories as it normally would. I’m afraid, no matter what we do, I don’t think those memories will help.”

The pronouncement sent the room back into a deathly silence.

“Maybe… maybe I just messed up,” Wanda suggested desperately, sounding much frailer than he’d ever heard her. “I think we should still try again. The nerds can look at their machine and I can gather even more memories of Asgard to help you find it.”

Doctor Strange leaned back with a loose gesture somewhere between a shrug and a shake of his head, “I’m certain that it won’t work, but we can try. I’ll need time to get my energy back but if there’s even the slightest chance, we can try once more.”

He groaned, slumping slightly in the chair and letting his eyes drop closed, as if he were going to take a nap right there.

“Let me help you back to your room, doctor,” Jane offered quickly. “You worked harder than anyone, and the more you rest the sooner we can try again,” she pointed out as she grasped him by the elbow and pulled him out of the chair.

“Jane will take real good care of you; she loves a man in a cloak,” Darcy teased as the two of them slowly staggered out of the room. The door slammed behind them.

Peter stared vacantly at his half-eaten pizza sandwich, hoping it might offer guidance.

“We’ve probably got a few days at least before Doctor Strange is ready,” he said, the words slipping from his mouth before he even thought about speaking. “I say we do whatever we can to improve P.A.M., it can’t hurt. At the same time, any other ideas are welcome - Asgard, the guardians, Bruce Banner or Thanos himself; all of them are open for suggestions.” He looked around the room, making sure to meet everyone’s eyes. “Darcy, has anyone else visited Asgard besides Jane?”

She grimaced, “Not that I know of. The only people involved in all the Asgardian nonsense are Jane, me, Erik and Ian, and only Jane ever went there.”

“Does S.H.I.E.L.D. have anything?” he asked, turning to Maria.

“As far as I know, only relating to events that happened on Earth but I’ll look into it,” she promised, whipping her phone out of her pocket to do just that.

He paused, trying to think of any other possible moves but someone else spoke before he could.

“If I may,” Vision asked politely, “Far be it from me to act defeatist, however I would like to remind everyone that-”

Whatever else he might have said, and everyone already knew what that would have been, was interrupted by F.R.I.D.A.Y.

“Boss, I think there might be a problem.”

The uncertainty of her statement was strange, but Tony didn’t pay it any mind. “Is it P.A.M.?” he asked urgently, straightening up from where he’d been slumped against the counter.

“No boss,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. confirmed immediately, “But I believe there might be a problem.”

“You’ve said that already,” he replied, sharper than he normally would have. “What is the problem?”

“I… I don’t know, boss.”

“You don’t know what the problem is?” he asked, disbelievingly.

“No boss. It is hard to classify. It looks like a man.”

“Where is the problem?” Natasha demanded when Tony seemed to flounder in shock.

“It is about to enter the room,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. declared, sending everyone scrambling as the door was pushed open.

It was indeed a man on the other side of the door, or at least the appearance of one, if F.R.I.D.A.Y. was to be believed. However that appearance wasn’t at all what Peter had expected. First and foremost, the man was old.

“I believe,” he started, his eyes focusing on certain people as his gaze took in the room, “that you are looking for a way to visit Asgard. Perhaps I can offer my aid?”

“I’m sorry, grandpa,” Tony snarked, gauntlets on each hand and not at all hesitant about aiming them at the man, “but who are you?”

The old man’s eyes narrowed, taking in everything about Tony. “You must be the Man of Iron; my son has told me much about you.”

Tony blanched, eyes widening and jaw dropping open with understanding.

Peter turned back to the old man as he went to continue.

“I am Odin, King of Asgard.”

…

_Oh._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My brain: tries to write scene with Peter helping out with science.  
> My heart: writes scene with cat videos to help Peter’s mental health. 
> 
> So a few notes.  
> First of all I've switched to past tense. That's how I write now, I don't want to get back into the habit of writing in present because that will mess with my original writing.  
> Which, second note, is my biggest priority right now (and if anyone knows any agents who are looking for YA fantasy, let me know! I'm on the search just now!! I'd like to get my first book published sometime...)  
> And third, if there are any inconsistencies in this chapter with regards to previous chapters, let me know. I think you guys probably know my story better than me at this point!  
> I do hope to finish this before Endgame comes out and makes it all not-canon...  
> (I'm so insanely nervous to post again, like actual anxiety so I really do hope it was a good chapter and not just all over the place!!)


	28. Breathe, then Leap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the continuous support and love!  
> I am back to struggling with this fic but I want to keep on pushing through. Only a month left until the movie after all!
> 
> A few updates...  
> I finally watched Ant-Man and the Wasp so now realise things are a bit divergent from that point but this was started before that movie was released so just grin and bear it...  
> More importantly - Captain Marvel - ahhhh!!!  
> MOST IMPORTANTLY - Spiderverse finally came out in Japan - AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> Finally, since it is only one month until the movie, anyone wanna try to start a twitter trend or something to celebrate the movie? I was thinking it's be awesome if everyone tweeted #mymarvel about what Marvel has meant to them and why it's important to their lives?  
> (I know my history with twitter isn't great haha...)

“Just to, you know, check we’re on the same page here… That was Odin, King of Asgard as in Thor’s dad, right? Not, the other… Odin?” Peter trailed off meekly when the man’s gaze turned to him.

“Do you know any other, Odin, King of Asgards?” he asked with an arched brow.

“No, but isn’t the King of Asgard meant to be… in Asgard? Do you often come down to Earth? How did you know to come here? Oh, did Thor send you?”

The questions slipped from his tongue like projectile vomit, uncontrollable and relentless.

Odin held up a hand to halt him.

“Thor did not send me, in fact it was my younger son that transposed me from Asgard to Earth. He-”

Tony released a sharp bark of laughter, disbelief colouring his voice as he asked, “Loki sent you? Why would he want to help us? I thought he was still throwing a tantrum about the last time he tried coming to Earth and we kicked his ass right back again.”

Odin frowned for a moment before sighing, apparently agreeing with Tony’s assessment of his son, or at least not objecting to it. 

“Loki did not send me for your good. After the events of the convergence, I was weakened and grieving the loss of my wife and, once again, my son. And, once again, it seems my tears for him were premature. While weakened, Loki cast his sorcery on me, befuddling my brain and delivering me to Shady Acres retirement home in New York.”

There was a long, uncertain pause.

“That’s rough,” Darcy stage whispered, “Imagine just dumping your dad in New York of all places… geez.”

“It was actually a very nice place,” Odin added, almost conversationally. “They served a bizarre, green, gelatinous dessert, similar to the secretion of a gyrlock but much more palatable.”

“Do you mean… jello?” Peter asked uncertainly.

“Yes, that was it! I hadn’t realised you mortals had advanced so far.”

Tony scoffed, “If you’re impressed by jello then have I got news for you…”

Odin glanced to him then decided to ignore his sarcastic comments and turned back to Peter.

“You named both of my sons in your speech,” he said, “Why?”

Peter floundered over the answer to the question for a few seconds, contemplating giving a vague answer like ‘because we need all the help we can get’ instead of the real one, that - 

“Thanos will kill Loki to get the Tesseract.”

The whole group turned to look at the door where Jane stood, lips pursed tightly together. The line of sight connecting her eyes to Odin’s seemed to grow heavy, as if it were exerting a force on the air around it.

Jane looked away with a snort, walking further into the room to stand beside Darcy who nudged her shoulder slightly in support. “Dr Strange will be fine but he’s probably going to be asleep for a while.”

“Jane,” Odin called, his voice solemnly, the slightest hint of both regret and reproach, “Thor misses you.”

Clearly, it was the wrong thing to say. Jane stiffened, shoulders raising to her ears, but Darcy turned to him with her hackles raised.

“Well then maybe he might want to stop by every now and then rather than just when it’s the end of the world? I’ll reintroduce him to Freddy while we’re at it.”

Jane placed a calming hand on her arm, “Darcy, stop threatening to tase gods.”

Darcy bristled once more than settled, patting her pocket threateningly as Jane looked at Odin.

“You think you can get us back to Asgard?” she asked brusquely.

Odin nodded, “As I am now I don’t have the power to access the bifrost myself, and I believe my son will have no doubt replaced Heimdall, who would see straight through him, with some imbecile who would no doubt ignore my summons. However you have already created your own rudimentary bridge, impressive for Midgardians,” he murmured without any malice intended yet leaving the whole room bristling at the slight. “I am positive that my memories will be sufficient to provide the direction needed for your machine.”

“Just like that?” Hope asked, skeptically.

“I am the King of Asgard,” Odin said in answer, the words slightly reprimanding. Hope just raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow, clearly unimpressed.

“Where were you the past few weeks?” Rhodey groused.

“Loki’s magic was strong, it took a while for me to shake it, even after the child started the process when I saw the news,” he said in response to the rhetorical question, with an infuriating nod at Peter when he said the word ‘child’. “I believe the urgency of the situation was enough to focus my mind. However it took several days to rid myself of the magic, and checking myself out of the care home was a difficult process. Then I was confounded by the Midgardian transportation system - I was forced to take the “subway” and four buses,” he pronounced the word “subway” as if it were foreign, clearly Asgard wasn’t big on public transportation, “And then walk an hour to reach your stronghold.”

He stopped and looked around the room silently, waiting for any further questions.

“Well after all that, we’d best hope this works then,” Tony muttered mockingly.

“It will,” Odin said assuredly, “But if you are not willing to take the All-father at his word, bring forth your magician.

“Speaking in third person, Darcy doesn’t think that’s a good sign,” Darcy grumbled under her breath as the rest of the room glanced awkwardly at each other.

“Um, well… our magician needs a bit of a break before he can go again, Mr Odin,” Peter explained. “So perhaps you won’t mind if we wait a few days to prove yourself? Not that I doubt you! I trust in your powers 100%! But, uh, yeah…” He picked up the box nearest him, holding it out in offering, “Do you want some pizza?”

 

As it turned out, Shady Acres didn’t offer pizza. Nor did it have mario kart.

 

“You sure you’re recovered enough to try again?” Jane asked nervously as Doctor Strange ate Froot Loops at the counter on Monday morning.

“I’ll be fine, Jane,” he replied but the words sounded tired as they left his mouth.

“Oooh, he called her Jane,” Darcy whispered loudly to Peter where they sat at the other end of the other side of the kitchen.

Peter snickered until a hand rapped gently around the back of his head, “No mocking Doc Brown until he gets us to Asgard,” Tony scolded mockingly.

“The time stone is a bit more complex than a flux capacitor,” Doctor Strange muttered scathingly before taking his bowl to the dishwasher. “I’m going to meditate until we’re ready to try this again.”

Jane scowled at the three of them once he left, “He’s very stressed you know,” she said reproachfully.

Tony sighed, drawing a hand down his face, “Aren’t we all?”

 

The excitement and hope that had filled the room the day before wasn’t as easy to come by after their first attempt ended with complete failure. Nobody wanted to be too optimistic, despite Odin’s assurances, just to face another defeat.

Peter could still feel the despair that had swallowed him yesterday as if it were lurking inside him, just waiting to rise up and devour him again.

A slim hand landed on his shoulder where he stands against the wall of the lab. Wanda had said she’d rather they complete the memory transfer as quickly as possible, so she’d forsaken the quiet of the other room in favour of rifling through Odin’s head in the lab, with the demand that everyone stayed quiet as she worked.

Peter turned to her then, the monster in his chest shrinking slightly when she offered him a small smile.

“I’ll do my best, Peter,” she said.

The simple promise was far better than any false assurances that everything would work out and Peter smiled in return in thanks.

“I know you will,” he replied softly, then, after a moment, pulled her in for a careful hug. “Sorry for putting all this pressure on you,” he whispered in her hair.

“No problem,” she whispered back. “Just an average avenger day, am I right?” she joked, pulling back and giving him another soft smile.

“You got some game, spidey,” Shuri joked as she squeezed in beside Wanda.

Peter choked, his words tripping over his tongue as he tried to deny it.

“No hug for me?” she said, taking pity on his pathetic attempts to communicate like a human.

Peter pouted then grabbed her around the middle and heaved her off the floor with one hand as the other attached to the ceiling.

“This a good enough hug for you, princess?” he teased as she started to punch his chest.

“Put me down right now you spider creep!”

Peter laughed, caught T’Challa’s eyes over Shuri’s shoulder, then tossed her across the room, laughing even harder as she shrieked, even when her brother caught her with ease.

“You watch yourself, Peter Parker,” she swore once T’Challa had set her back on her feet.

Peter raised a do-your-worst eyebrow, hiding the shiver of fear that ran down his spine.

“If you children are ready,” Doctor Strange asked as he entered the room, his voice disapproving but the small upturn of his lips gave him away. Wanda gave Peter a pat on the shoulder then wandered over to join him as Odin separated from the group of older scientists.

“I will warn you,” the god said, looking at Wanda, “That my head will be unlike that of any of the human minds you have explored before. Even without the millenia I have lived, Asgardian minds are on a different level from those of Midgardians.”

Tony scoffed and Peter saw several of the other adults rolling their eyes in exasperation too. Clearly Odin wasn’t quite getting the hang of toning down his holier-than-thou attitude around the mortals…

“Let’s take a look then,” Wanda said in response, raising her hands close to Odin’s brow and waiting for his nod before closing the remaining distance.

The room fell silent.

Everyone in the compound was once again lining the walls of the room, watching intently for any sign that it was going to work.

Red energy started to swirl up around Wanda, twisting around her hands and into Odin’s skin.

She frowned, then a second later more energy poured out of her, closing almost like a transparent mask around Odin’s face.

Slowly, sweat started to gather on her brow.

The room tensed, everyone ready to dart forward the moment Wanda needed help.

She snatched her fingers away with a loud gasp, eyes wide and lips trembling slightly as she stared at Odin.

As one the whole room rocked forward, but before anyone could take a step, she turned away, hands reaching for Doctor Strange and red energy rippling out once more.

Where the extraction process had taken almost ten minutes, implanting the memories into Doctor Strange took less than one.

“Turn on P.A.M.,” he ordered as his eyes snapped open. Sparks flickered around his fingers, as if the magic was fighting against his control, desperate to create connections through time and space.

Tony, Shuri, Jane and Peter rushed to their desks. For ten seconds the room was filled with just the click, click of fingers tapping against keys.

“Online.”

“Yup.”

“I’m good.”

“All yours, Merlin.”

Almost before Tony finished speaking Doctor Strange was waving his hand in a swift, sharp circle of light that P.A.M. latched onto in an instant.

The low hum of power flowing through P.A.M. was instantly erased by a loud whine. Peter flinched, hands quickly reaching up to cover his ears against the sound.

Jane rushed forward, reaching out to support Doctor Strange but he gently brushed her concern away, completely unphased by the creation of the portal: P.A.M. had clearly done her job properly in that regard this time, taking the full burden of supplying the portal’s energy.

The rest of the team crept closer. Peter wanted to look too, but the sound was getting louder and louder and he was starting to contemplate making a rush for the door.

Something tight settled over his hands which were then carefully pulled away. Peter resisted for a second, but the moment the soft material covered his ears the sound dimmed significantly.

Tony gave him a worried look and flashed an ok sign in question. 

Peter nodded but was sure his face was probably ash-white.

Another hand hooked around his elbow, startling him as May appeared suddenly, the sounds of her approach masked by both P.A.M.’s overwhelming racket and the sound-dampening headphones.

She smiled softly at him, then pulled him up out of his chair towards the group watching P.A.M. anxiously just as the cacophony of noise suddenly ceased.

“Wow, that was horrible,” Peter announced to the room as he took the headphones off. “Anyone else not feel like doing that again?”

His humour fell completely flat, nobody even glancing at him.

“Peter,” Wanda called, reaching back towards him. The group parted enough for him to squeeze through to her side, “Look.”

He turned, looking to P.A.M.

Looking  _ through _ P.A.M.

There was a room on the other side. The walls, floors and ceiling were covered in gold and elaborate designs, surrounding a series of raised dais with some form of display stand in the middle. Whatever was meant to be displayed however, was missing.

“Well, it looks like something from Doctor Who,” Shuri pointed out, inching closer until her nose was inches from the portal.

“That’s Asgard,” Jane declared, her voice barely a whisper and filled with awe.

Peter didn’t blame her. He didn’t think he could even make a sound right now even if he tried. Relief was choking him, like when he swallowed bread without chewing properly.

“Indeed,” Odin confirmed, “Your portal has opened into the bifrost room.”

Peter couldn’t take his eyes away, transfixed by the glimmering gold that, honestly, seemed a bit over the top, even when his eyes started to tear up.

“Did we…” ‘really do it?’ he wanted to ask.

Someone behind him laughed, the sound so relieved it came out slightly hysterical.

Odin stepped forward, his face for once softed by a smile.

“Midgardians, Asgard is your ally in the fight against the scourge, Thanos. As my son has in the past, now, I welcome you to my kingdom,” he said with a hand gesturing to the portal. His gaze travelled around the group before stopping on Jane with a small nod of his head.

“Alright then!” Shuri exclaimed brightly, “Who’s going to Asgard?”

Peter’s hand shot into the air, not willing to even change being left behind when he could go to an alien planet!

“Jane, Darcy, you’re both most familiar with Asgard,” Pepper pointed out, “You should both go too.”

T’Challa and Tony had a silent conversation over Peter and Shuri’s excited heads before Tony sighed and stepped up too, “Guess I’ll come along too.”

“And perhaps Wanda and Doctor Strange, in case anything happens to P.A.M.’s portal,” May added nervously.

“Nothing’s going to happen to it, she’s good and stable,” Tony insisted.

“P.A.M. only exists here. If something were to go wrong with the portal, both Doctor Strange, Odin and I would be needed here to open the portal again,” Wanda pointed out, stepping forward. “Since Odin must be in the group visiting Asgard, the two of us might as well join.”

“Very well,” Odin declared when the group of seven Midgardians seemed ready. “After you, son of Stark.”

Peter flushed and several tiny snickers erupted through the room, but nobody bothered to correct Odin and Peter hunched his shoulders and took the biggest step of his life.

There was no wormhole; no whizz, bang, thwap. Nothing at all like stargate. Instead it felt almost as if there was a thin film stretched between P.A.M.’s frame like the thinnest layer of water that clung to him until his foot touched the ground then suddenly snapped back into place.

Then he was there. 

In Asgard.

The same place as the Tesseract.

Asgard!

Thor’s home.

_ Asgard!! _

“Who the fuck are you?” a voice called angrily from behind him.

Peter’s instincts took him straight up to the ceiling, attaching with both feet and hands in an upside crouch as he looked down at the man who had startled him. He was really going to have to get better at checking  _ behind _ the portal instead of looking around with his mouth open in awe.

He looked Asgardian in that he was well-built and well-armoured.

The assault rifles pointed up at Peter in each of his hands looked decidedly less Asgardian.

“I’ll ask one more time,” the man growled, “Who _ the fuck _ are you?”

Peter could see his fingers twitching against the triggers.

“I’m… ugh… Peter?”

“Skurge, son of Birger, lay down your arms,” Odin boomed, stepping through the portal and turning to the bald man. He looked bizarre - the confident strength in his back at odds with the sweater, trousers and sneakers he wore.

The man, Skurge, turned the two guns towards him and Peter jumped down in front of Odin in a split-second. 

His fear was for naught. The guns lowered the moment Skurge’s eyes met Odin’s. 

“All-Father?” he asked, bewildered by the man’s sudden appearance and unusual clothing. His eyes widened, then, for a second, narrowed again suspiciously.

“Skurge,” Odin boomed over Peter’s head, making both Peter and Skurge flinch for different reasons.

The gun’s clattered to the ground, dropping in synchrony with Skurge as he took to a knee, head bowed deferentially.

“All-Father! How… Wh-What are you doing here? Why?”

“I am here to speak with my son, and to prevent the destruction of the universe.”

“Anything I can do, my liege! I will do whatever you ask of me, for the good of the realm!” Skurge insisted, his eyes alight with excitement. “I will summon Prince Thor back to Asgard for you immediately!”

He stood, pulling a sword from his hip and moving swiftly towards the dais before Odin raised a hand to stop him.

“Perhaps later,” he insisted. “For now it is my other son, Loki, with whom I wish to speak.”

Skurge flinched, head ducking down away from Odin’s gaze.

“My king… your son, Loki… it was a tragedy, my liege but he was… killed by the Dark Elves,” Skurge explained brokenly, clearly confused as to why Odin would say anything otherwise.

“Was he now?” Odin asked, voice disapproving.

“Yes, All-Father. The theatre will perform  _ The Tragedy of Loki of Asgard _ this afternoon if you would like to...  remember… what happened…?”

Odin sighed wearily, closing his eyes in disbelief, as Tony decided he was done hanging back and stepped through the portal.

“I’ll show Loki a great tragedy when I shove my metal boot so far up his-”

“Freddy has first dibs,” Darcy announced, taser in hand as she stepped into Asgard. “You  _ really _ have to try some colours other than gold,” she muttered, looking around the room in distaste.

“Darcy, stop critiquing the decor and put that taser away! Let’s get a move on, we’re here for a reason,” Jane said as she emerged.

“Agreed. Lead the way to the Tesseract, if you would,” Doctor Strange asked Odin.

Odin gave a slight nod, “Close your portal and then we shall retrieve the Tesseract.”

The group of humans all shared uncertain glances, none of them comfortable with their means of getting home being closed without any means to open it again from their side without building a whole new system.

“Skurge, the bifrost is functioning perfectly, is it not?” Odin asked.

The bald man nodded, “Prince Thor has been using it frequently in his search for the infinity stones.”

Jane scoffed quietly.

“Very well. Once our business is done I will have the bifrost opened for your return to Midgard.”

“I’ll cut the connection here,” T’Challa called through the portal. He sounded calm and confident and Peter wished he could be as certain of everything as he was. “Good luck with your tasks; we will continue our preparations here. Come back soon.”

“Don’t miss us too much, brother,” Shuri called teasingly back just before the sparkling circle snapped closed.

“Let’s get going then, shall we oh great one?” Tony said, gesturing a hand forward towards the city before them.

“I’m shocked you and my youngest son do not get along, Stark. Your tongues hold the same twisted sense of humour.”

Tony balked at the accusation as Odin smirked and started to lead the way into the city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tries to write Odin - struggles.
> 
> Again, I've lost touch with this fic and think this chapter was awful but I felt like things were stagnating so decided to push forward.  
> The good news is that I've finally figured out how it's going to end which has been a big source of stress for me for a long while...  
> Still aiming to finish before the movie so I'll try my best to keep writing every day!  
> Thanks for staying with me! <3


	29. Breathe, then Reconcile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A late night post but wanted to post asap to keep my steam going with this fic!! ^_^ Hope it isn't a hot mess...
> 
> A trickster hijacked the first half of this chapter...

Things were going well. It was about time, really - the past few… Months? Years? Things just hadn’t been going great.

New York had been a bit of a mess.

New Mexico before it had been just as bad.

He’d almost thank Malekith for causing chaos and giving him the chance to slip away if it weren’t for… everything else that had happened in conjunction with that invasion…

But now… Finally… 

Things were going well for Loki.

He had his throne. Or, well, his biased, unloving  _ father’s _ throne, but who was going to notice the difference at this point?

Asgard was thriving; Thor was off-world more than on, with his self-appointed Infinity Stone search; and, most importantly, the people were happy.

Now all he had to do was sit back and reap the benefits.

“-and so, All-Father, I put it to you. Please deliver your verdict to settle this feud.”

Loki looked dispassionately down at the two men standing in the middle of his throne room, staring expectantly up at him.

“Let me review the matter one more time,” Loki said in his most benevolent All-Father voice. “You each killed three bilgesnipe to gain Flaerdr’s hand in marriage and now want me to decide who has won?” 

The two men nodded emphatically.

“Why don’t you ask Flaerdr to decide?”

The men glanced at each other.

“She said that perhaps it is the god’s will that neither of us beat the other and won her hand, so we have come to you, All-Father, to-”

“Yes, you said,” Loki groaned wearily. “I have devised a new test to decide a winner. The one to gain the beautiful Flaerdr’s hand shall be the one that realises that she isn’t interested in either of you at all.”

The two men, both brawny and battle-scarred, looked despairingly confused.

“She doesn’t want to marry either of you,” Loki surmised brusquely, “Go find someone else to flaunt your muscles before.” He paused, took a deep breath to centre himself and channel more Odin, less Loki. “There are many more bilgesnipe in the forest,” he said, borrowing a Midgardian phrase, “There will be a woman who longs for you as you do here, do not lose faith.”

Or something like that.

Loki waited as the larger of the two, Burgin or somesuch, slowly lit up with understanding.

“I see, All-Father. Thank you for your great wisdom.”

He turned to the man beside him, placed a heavy hand on his shoulder and,  _ finally _ , started leading him to the door. “Come, brother. The All-Father is right, we must kill more bilgesnipe.”

Loki’s benevolent-Odin-smile became strained but he held it firmly in place until the door closed behind the two. Dear lord, there were too many brawny buffoons; perhaps Thor wasn’t as bad as he had always thought.

Glancing to the sun through the window, he quickly pulled himself from his throne and headed for the door himself. There was still a few hours until  _ The Tragedy of Loki of Asgard _ was to be performed in the commons, perhaps he would visit the gardens until then, anything to avoid any more tedious arbitrating of menial problems.

There was a commotion approaching the citadel as Loki stepped beneath the sun’s warmth. The crowd in the distance was shifting unnaturally, a mix of people trying to clear the way and others trying to get closer to see whomever was approaching. 

Loki sighed, already having a good guess as to who it was. He took a place at the top of the staircase leading up to the citadel’s main gate, waiting for Thor’s arrival.

He’d really expected him to take much longer on his search before returning - the chances of him having found an Infinity Stone already were infinitesimal! There were three unaccounted for and the whole universe to search - he should have been away for  _ years _ .

Loki turned to one of the guards who stood by the grand entryway as the disturbance in the crowd grew closer, “Send word to the cooks: my son Thor returns and we shall have a great feast tonight so celebrate.”

The man rushed off to do as instructed and Loki returned to his place, a warm, welcoming smile on his face, the type Odin often wore when talking with Thor of his gallant victories over some mighty foe.

‘Channel your inner Odin. You are the king now: wear the crown, be the crown, you are the crown.’

The person moving through the crowd had almost arrived and…

Loki frowned.

There wasn’t just one person arriving, in fact it looked like a rather sizeable group. Perhaps Thor had made some new friends on his travels - Odin knew he was overly outgoing when meeting new people, as evidenced by his Midgardian friends.

The crowd was finally splitting enough to see the tops of their heads and, with a great feeling of dread, Loki realised there were no tall, lumbering, idiotic blond brothers of his in the group.

In fact, now he realised it had taken a while to even see most of their heads - the majority of the group were actually rather small compared to Asgardian standards. Perhaps they were a smaller race of - 

Loki’s eyes widened as the crowd split, many of them turning to look questioningly up to him as the group came to a stop at the base of the stairs, looking up at him.

_ Oh shit. _

He felt all the blood drain from his face so quickly he’d be surprised if his skin stopped at an unhealthy white rather than flowing straight through to the blue he hid beneath layers of glamours.

He stared down at his current likeness.

How many times he’d wanted to look down on the man, but now it was happening Odin looked ridiculous. The stern, noble, battle-carved man was gone and what was left was softer and wearier. He wore Midgardian clothes comfortably when he’d rarely be seen outside of his armour before.

And yet, despite his changed appearance, the biggest difference was the way he looked up to him: gone was the anger and disappointment, instead he finally looked at him with the warmth of fondness that had been reserved for Thor in the past.

“Loki, my son,” he called up, his voice instantly silencing the murmurs of the crowd the way it always had. “I am pleased to see you in good health after your latest death. Frigga would be proud of your sorcery. However the time for tricks and jokes has past. It is time for us to lift sword and shield together for the future of Asgard and the universe.”

Odin gestured out to include both Loki and those who surrounded him and for the first time Loki turned to them only to first meet the disdainful hazel eyes of Tony Stark.

_ Double shit. _

Quickly turning his eyes away from the Avenger that he’d last seen under rather unpleasant circumstances, he looked to the next person and met an even angrier pair.

Jane Foster.

_ Fuck fuck fuck. _

Loki turned his gaze back to Odin quickly, rather than look to the rest of the Midgardians for more hatred and distrust. With a forced chuckle, he dropped the glamours disguising himself to the horror of the Asgardians watching.

“Welcome home, father,” he said with a mocking bow towards the open doors behind him as the guards around him raised their spears. “Shall we discuss this over tea or is it straight back to my cell for the rest of eternity?”

 

If Loki could have chosen Midgardians he  _ didn’t _ want to see again any time soon, Tony Stark and Jane Foster would have been pretty high on the list. At least his father didn’t bring that S.H.I.E.L.D. archer he’d brainwashed while on Earth. Or the giant, green, primitive beast that had slammed him around like a marionette with his strings held in its brutish fists.

“How was your retirement, father?” he asked mockingly as they walked back to the throne room. Odin had dismissed the guards who had attempted to restrain Loki once his trickery had been revealed and led the way back into the citadel without as much as a word to the anxiously watching crowds.

“Rather pleasant,” Odin replied with surprising sincerity as they entered the room. “The Midgardians have grown rather good at the game of chess. They have also mastered the art of animating pictures - truly spectacular for how primitive their society is compared with ours.”

“As lovely as your compliments of us humans are,” the taller mortal interrupted with the same sarcastic tone that Stark favoured, “We’re here for the Tesseract, not your family drama.”

Odin nodded benevolently to him, “As you say, sorcerer.”

Loki’s interest in the conversation perked up, giving the man a considering look over. He wore robes, unusual for what Loki had seen of the current Midgardian fashion trends (and he was definitely rather fond of their well-tailored styles over Asgardian armours). Now Loki looked closer, he could definitely see the fine strings of magic weaved into the red cloak around his shoulders and, as if sensing his interest, the cloak itself rose up around his shoulders unassisted, gathering over one shoulder as if to look back at Loki.

Plus there was some sort of locket hanging over his chest that definitely held something that reeked of magical power...

Interesting. 

“However, Heimdall has not yet returned to open the bifrost for you,” Odin continued, “and we will likely need both my sons’ help in this battle, so if you would spare some of your time to explain the situation to my son, I would be to everyone’s benefit.”

The sorcerer looked greatly inconvenienced by the request but leant back against the wall behind him with an aggrieved sigh of acceptance.

To Loki’s surprise, the youngest of the group stepped forward to him, Stark immediately stepping up behind him and the scowl on his face darkening in clear warning that Loki found amusing rather than intimidating. He glanced between the two men, if the younger could be called such yet. There were similarities, though it surprised Loki as he had heard nothing of an offspring last he had been on Earth.

The boy smiled, both anxious and exhilarated as he extended his hand to Loki. “Hi, Mr Loki. I’m Peter. Peter Parker, we never met, I’m kinda new around here I guess. I wasn’t really around when you attacked New York, I mean I was, like I was alive, but I wasn’t really superheroing... Anyway we’re kinda in a tight spot and really need everyone to help out so could we maybe sit and chat for a few minutes,” he glanced to Odin, “See if you’d be willing to pitch in before we go with the whole ‘locked in a cage for eternity’ route?”

“Well since you make such a compelling argument,” Loki said, his voice soaked in sarcasm that seemed to just slip past the boy.

“Great. I’m guessing you’ve heard of Thanos…”

Loki’s spine straightened at the name and he swallowed the jokes and taunts that had been on the tip of his tongue. “We’re acquainted,” he replied icily. He looked around the group, meeting each of the frowns that the mad titan’s name had caused. 

“I see,” he said, taking the hand Peter had left suspended out before him. “Speak; I will listen.”

 

The child’s story was absurd but Loki would give his father, and reluctantly Stark and Foster, credit where it was due - if they were taking the story of time travel so seriously then perhaps there was some truth to it.

The parts about Thanos and what he would do Loki had no problems believing; he had worked for Thanos, only somewhat willingly, and he had earned the title  _ mad _ titan for a reason. He had not been completely forthcoming with his plans however, and the thought that he had destroyed half the universe in an instant was a bit hard to digest.

“And so you plan to face him with your own collection of infinity stones? The mind stone, space stone and time stone?” he asked once the boy, Peter, had finished recounting his tale.

They could probably also get the reality stone back from Knowhere before Thanos retrieved it himself, if their estimates of the time frame that Thanos had worked on were accurate, he mused, so lost in thought that he almost missed the mortal’s response.

“Not exactly. We’re planning on facing Thanos with two stones: we’re going to destroy the Space Stone before Thanos can get it.”

Loki’s musing pulled up short. “You want to  _ destroy the stone _ ?” he asked incredulously, over-emphasizing each word. “Please, child, tell me how you plan to do so?”

The boy looked sheepish, “Well, we haven’t got so far with the plan yet; how could we when we didn’t even have the stone to test hypotheses with? Hopefully using another infinity stone against it would do the trick…”

“A fine plan. I have no clue why you’d even need my help,” Loki sneered.

The boy’s whole aura seemed to slouch despondently and Stark wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pulling him back into his side.

“Well since you’re so much more experienced with the Tesseract, what suggestions do you have?” Stark growled at him.

Loki scowled but remained silent, unable to think of any other possible solutions.

“I thought as much,” Stark sneered.

“We’ll start by running analysis on the stone,” the other child spoke. “I’ve looked through the information S.H.I.E.L.D. gathered through the years but I’m sure we’d get more if I were able to look it over in my own lab.”

“I have many items of overwhelming strength in my vaults. Though under normal circumstances I would not permit their use, for this task I think we can deem their use judicious to at least try,” Odin suggested. “Come, I will lead the way. Consider yourself greatly honoured - very few Asgardians are permitted into my vault, to allow Midgardians in is unprecedented.”

Jane’s minion rubbed her hands together gleefully, “Let’s go then.”

The door to the hall opened just as the group started to move. Loki’s mouth pulled down into a frown at the sight of the gatekeeper he’d had exiled as he knelt before Odin.

“All-Father, I was pleased to see your return and came as fast as I could.”

“And I am pleased to see you, Heimdall, we have much to do. Please return to your post. Send Skurge to the citadel - he has watched Asgard well during his time in control of the bifrost, he shall have a place in the royal guard.”

Loki was certain Odin was talking out of his ass - he’d found the least capable man he could to replace Heimdall, but in his time filling Odin’s role as king he’d realised that perhaps Odin’s tongue could be as slippery as his own when the need arose.

“Summon my other son back to Asgard as soon as you can, we will need his strength in the coming times. As too will we need your skills, Heimdall; I will summon for you soon.”

The tall man ducked his head before rising and leaving the room ahead of them, headed down towards the bifrost as ordered while the rest of them turned further into the citadel.

 

“All the items kept in my vault have the potential to begin Ragnarok,” Odin explained as he led them down the last stairs into the torch-lit chamber.

Peter’s gaze caught on an eye-shaped artifact nearest the stairs, leaning closer but keeping his hands carefully at his side to avoid any temptation.

“Isn’t it a bad idea to keep them  _ in _ Asgard if they could start Ragnarok?” he asked, turning to face the king. As he did, his eyes caught on a golden hand opposite him, and his lungs filled with ice.

“Th-that…” he said, voice trembling as he raised a shaking hand towards the familiar gauntlet. Odin’s response to his first question trailed off as he turned to look at the object that had gained the attention of all the Midgardians.

“The Gauntlet of Cosmic Destruction?” he asked, his voice completely serious. “An ancient seer foresaw the gauntlet leading to the destruction of the universe. We retrieved it from the Dwarven planet Nidavellir several years ago; the dwarves seemed uncomfortable with the realisation of what they had made.”

None of the humans spoke immediately after he finished. Peter inched closer, looking over the large, golden gauntlet where it stood proudly in the vault.

“It’s the wrong hand,” Shuri announced suddenly behind him, her voice breathy with relief. “In your memories, Thanos always had the gauntlet on his left hand; this is a right-handed gauntlet.”

She was right, Peter realised as he turned back again. It was impossible to forget where Thanos had worn the gauntlet after almost removing it from the hand in question, and this one was unmistakably for the opposite hand.

“A prototype?” Jane wondered softly, just as several things clicked together in Peter’s head.

“Where did you say this was made?” Peter asked Odin urgently.

“Nidavellir, the dwarven homeworld. They use the light of the dying neutron star to power their forges.”

“That’s where the Guardians said Thor was going,” Peter said, looking to Tony. “If it’s where Thanos also had his gauntlet made…”

“Has anyone been to Nidavellir since then?” Doctor Strange asked, the dread easy to hear in his voice.

Odin’s face was grave, having caught up on what was being suggested sometime in the midst of their dawning realisation. “I will send men to check on the dwarven homeworld once we are done here, let us make greater haste.”

He strode further down the hallway, stopping at the plinth with a familiar, blue cube resting atop it. He picked it up, holding it by the very tips of his fingers, then placed it on the ground in the centre of the hallway.

“The Hallowed Sword of Belgurn,” he declared, taking the weapon from its own plinth and holding it up for the light to reflect from the red metal. “Perhaps the strongest weapon ever forged, said to be the cleaver of worlds; even Mjolnir would struggle against its might,” he explained as he took his place beside the Tesseract, positioning the sword above it. “Stand back,” he ordered, giving them a scant two seconds to obey before swinging the blade down.

A sharp crack echoed through the vault and Peter watched with with bated breath as Odin pulled the sword back, waiting to see how much damage it had done to the Tesseract.

As the sword rose, the top third of it clattered to the floor beside the completely untouched Tesseract.

Odin stared emotionlessly down at the broken blade then tossed the rest of it aside and scooped the Tesseract up instead.

“Very well, we will instead try the most powerful artifact in the vault - the Eternal Flame. Taken from the fire demon Surtur, it is said that it has the power to turn planets to ash.”

Odin led them to a warm flame that sat within a golden basin and, without any preface, tossed the cube into the flames.

The Tesseract sat within the fire, unchanged.

“Um… do you have a way to get it out again?” Darcy asked once it became clear the Tesseract was not going to turn to ash.

Odin’s frown grew deeper.

 

They emerged from the vault some time later, the Tesseract carefully concealed in a leather pouch that swung happily from Shuri’s hand.

“I invite you to try your Midgardian science, however if even the Eternal Flame could not destroy it, I doubt anything beyond another Infinity Stone will cause any damage,” Odin griped as he led them back towards the entrance of the citadel. “If you are unable to destroy the stone, we must devise a new plan. For now, I will have Heimdall search for the Guardians and Hulk you spoke of, however it may take some time to find any results being that they are beyond the nine realms.”

“One of them may be essential to defeating Thanos,” Jane murmured to herself more than the group.

“Have him do his best,” Shuri requested. “And I’ll have the stone destroyed by then,” she added confidently.

“I would be pleased if you did,” Odin offered neutrally.

“Well then father, what shall we be doing while the Midgardians are preparing?” Loki asked, half scathingly, half curious.

Odin looked at his youngest son with a serious frown, “Asgard shall prepare for war.”

As if on queue, the sky rumbled ominously to emphasize his words, sending a shiver down Peter’s spine.

“Fuck,” Loki whispered under his breath. It seemed a bit too strong a reaction to Peter, at least until he looked at him and realised he was looking away from the group, off into the distance, towards the bifrost.

The sky growled again, dark clouds gathering and, with a glance around the group, Peter realised Loki wasn’t the only one looking towards the sky - both he and Jane looked nervous, while Tony was barely masking his excitement.

“And you,” Odin continued with a relaxed smile, “shall also be speaking with your brother.”

A pair of booted feet hit the ground meters from them as he finished speaking, and Peter turned, mouth agape in awe, as Thor stormed towards the group, face set in a heavy frown as he strode straight to Loki and slammed a fist straight into his jaw.

Loki crashed to the ground, tumbling several meters back across the floor like a lifeless puppet.

Thor chased after him, grasping him by the collar of his black, leather armour and heaving him back to his feet and into a crushing hug.

“Loki, my brother, you devious snake, I thought you dead! Again!” he cried, face tucked into Loki’s neck. “I miss the days where you just simply stabbed me and then ran away laughing like the little trickster you are.”

Peter watched, a feeling of dread building in his stomach upon hearing Thor’s greeting, with the sudden realisation that he had forgotten to mention something important. “Um,” he called loudly, interrupting Thor’s monologue. 

Thor turned to him, face alight with an unreasonably beautiful smile, “Hello small child,” he said, then turned to the rest of the group.

“Stark, a welcome surprise to see you on Asgard!” he exclaimed before his eyes fell on Jane and Darcy and his exuberance dimmed slightly.

“Jane,” he said, then hesitated before adding, “I’m glad you’re doing well.”

“You too,” she said, meeting his eye then quickly looking away again. 

“Ummmm,” Peter said a bit louder this time, gaining the attention of the group again. He looked to Odin, “Would this be a bad time to mention your daughter destroying Asgard before Thanos appeared to kill the rest of your people?”

The three Asgardians fell deathly still, Thor and Loki’s faces the picture of perplexed horror while Odin grew more weary.

“I have a sister?” Thor asked, looking from Peter to Loki to Odin who studiously avoided his gaze.

Peter gulped, “I guess it slipped my mind?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no, another Miss Congeniality reference slipped into this fic, idk how this keeps happening… >_>
> 
> Asking for important plot later - how many readers are die hard ‘everything must stick to canon’ people? Important for stuff later... 
> 
> Quite a long note about this chapter. I hope it makes some sense...
> 
> Firstly, I think Heimdall’s senses are limited to the nine realms but since he was able to communicate with Thor on Sakaar, I’m twisting it a bit to just be much harder to look beyond them.
> 
> Secondly, Re the gauntlet - for those who don’t remember there is a copy of Thanos’ gauntlet (with infinity stones) in Odin’s vault. In the pictures I can find it is for the opposite hand. Since the first Thor movie was made so long ago, MCU had to do a quick backtrack and so had Hela dismiss it as fake which is good enough for the movies. Since I find it impossible to skip over things that need explaining, I figured if Odin considered it Thanos’ gauntlet and the infinity stones he would have dismissed that notion when the infinity stones started popping up elsewhere, so I decided to make it so Odin mistakenly believed it to be something else, unrelated to Thanos. Furthermore, there are questions as to when Thanos got the gauntlet since he wiped out the dwarves at the same time and shouldn’t Asgard have noticed? The gauntlet's first appearance is after Age of Ultron. Since this movie is also after Thor 2, I figure that Loki’s replacement of Heimdall with Skurge means that Thanos retrieved the gauntlet soon after Thor 2 and Skurge wasn’t paying any attention to anything that happened. That’s my take on the MCU timeline on this topic at least. Is this important? No, I just thought I’d explain my thinking…  
> In summary, for the sake of this fic, Odin’s gauntlet is a prototype made by the dwarves under threat of death (pre-Thor 1) which he then followed through on once the final one was made (Post-Thor 2). Hope that makes some sense...
> 
> Final note - according to Hela most things in Odin’s vault are fake, thus the sword (which I completely made up) not working either. Not that it would have anyway, against an infinity stone...


	30. Breathe, then Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for so many lovely reviews last chapter! It was so reassuring to see people are still interested in this old fic...  
> If you didn’t see, I did a short, Peter&Tony 5+1 while struggling with this fic! Please check that out too! It’s just cute and dumb ^w^  
> And finally, I plan to get at least another chapter out before Endgame, but advanced warning - please do NOT post anything about it in comments until like two weeks after it's released. It comes out for me on the 26th and I will be seeing it that day, but I want this to be a safe place for anyone no matter when they see it! ^w^

“So I die then?” Odin asked, the words seeming to drain the energy from him.

“According to the Guardians who said that Thor said so,” Peter clarified. “I mean, I don’t actually _know_ , you know?”

Odin nodded, though Peter got the impression he did not, in fact, know. “I am not surprised, I have felt it in my bones, ever since Frigga died.”

“Father, no…” Thor’s face became pinched, one hand wavering as it reached out towards Odin. Beside him Loki remained silent but his eyes were wide with unconcealed disbelief.

“We could stop your daughter, before she kills you and destroys Asgard,” Peter suggested quickly and Thor nodded vehemently in agreement.

“Yes, father. Let us make plans for your safety. Tell us what you know of… our s-sister,” he stumbled over the word, “and we can-”

Odin held up a hand, silencing him.

“It is not Hela that will kill me, my son. There is a time for each of us, and mine is fast approaching. Even Asgardians die eventually.”

Peter stepped backwards, giving the three gods some space and quickly backing up into Tony’s chest. A firm arm wrapped around his shoulders, holding him tightly in place.

He could feel the reassuring hum of the arc reactor against his back and let himself relax into the strong body behind him.

“Then what of Hela, and Asgard?” Loki asked softly.

“Hela, my first child, was everything I wanted her to be and so she was my greatest mistake. I raised her to crave war; we slaughtered and conquered together, and yet when I hung up my sword, her lust for blood did not cease. I sealed her away with my powers and so, when my powers are gone, she will be released once more unto the world, to continue her crusade for domination over all.”

She sounded as bad as Thanos. God, the two of them could never meet, Peter realised, the thought filling him with dread.

“And were you ever planning on telling anyone this?” Doctor Strange demanded harshly, voice striking through the solemn silence like a snake at its prey. “Or did you just plan to let her pop up and destroy the universe because, hey, what does it matter, you’re already dead?”

“He has a good point,” Shuri whispered loudly as Odin turned to look at them.

Thor looked ready to introduce Doctor Strange to Mjolnir, hand clenching at his side, but Loki’s gaze was still fixed on his father, the same accusation heavy in his eyes.

“I cannot say what would have been. Perhaps I did not, perhaps I died on Earth and left Hela to my sons to reign in. Unlike you, sorcerer, I am not able to foresee the future,” he snapped. He turned back to Thor, pointedly showing Doctor Strange his back. “Regardless, with current events I have no plans to die until this battle is seen through to its conclusion. Thor, how went your search for the remaining Infinity Stones?”

Thor lowered his head in shame, “I had no luck, the three remaining stones; soul, power and time, are still unknown to-.”

“We know where the time stone is,” Peter interrupted, brow furrowed slightly. “You mean the reality stone, right?”

Thor gave him a smile that was clearly only to humour him, “No, Starkson. After the convergence my father entrusted the reality stone to the protection of the Collector on Knowhere.”

Peter turned to look at the other five midgardians, their faces all sharing the same irate expressions that they slowly turned towards Odin.

The god looked unrepentant.

“We could do nothing to recover it until we had access to the bifrost, telling you sooner would have just added more pressure onto your shoulders.”

“Getting really tired of this old fu-”

Peter jumped in before Shuri could finish, “So we’ll have four of the stones, let’s focus on that,” he said with forced cheer. “If we can get all four of them before Thanos and destroy the space stone, our chances of success are… they’re… they’re much higher!”

He couldn’t bring himself to say anything with complete certainty, but that didn’t stop the excitement that bubbled through his veins at the thought.

“ _If_ you can destroy the space stone,” Loki pointed out snidely before anyone could get too excited, looking to the pouch at Shuri’s waist.

“You plan to destroy the Tesseract?” Thor asked, following his brother’s gaze.

“Better to destroy it now so the big grape can’t get his hands on all six stones,” Tony explained shortly.

Thor nodded thoughtfully, then held his hand out towards Shuri in askance. Shuri held the bag up then, slowly, handed it to Thor.

For a few seconds, he seemed content with just the pouch; assessing the weight of it with a few bounces of his hand up and down before eventually pulling the pouch open to reveal the glowing cube the moment it was in his hold. The next second, the bag was upended, the cube clattering loudly across the stone floor with Thor stalking after it in two large strides, Mjolnir quickly jumping into his hand just in time for a large, downwards swing.

“No!” Odin yelled, just as the two connected.

Three things happened almost simultaneously.

First, a resounding crash of thunder sounded above their heads, rattling Peter’s bones. Just as the roaring grumble died, he heard a loud _crack_ from where the hammer met the Tesseract. And in the next split-second, a shockwave sent every occupant of the hall flying backwards into a loosely circular array of superheroes, gods and scientists.

Before he could even so much as blink, Peter found himself skidding into the garish, gold wall of the hall, a good fifteen meters from where he’d been standing moments before.

“Ow,” someone groaned from beside him as he sprung back to his feet and he turned to find Shuri, feet in the air and body in a crumpled heap below. He looked around as he helped her back to her feet.

Odin and Loki were across the room from him, both back on their feet and straightening their clothes. Further along from Shuri, Doctor Strange was standing, a frown on his face and his sentient cloak flapping unhappily around him. Tony was helping Jane and Darcy, from the looks of it muttering curses under his breath as he did so.

Thor… Peter glanced around, not finding him until the whole throne, which had been knocked backwards, was pushed aside with a thud, revealing a slightly ragged Thor underneath.

He stood up with a scowl, looking from his empty hand towards the cavernous crater now occupying the centre of the room.

“I… heard a crack,” Peter said uncertainly, a wave of hope sweeping through him with the words before being slightly tempered by the memories of past disappointments. But if it had been from the space stone… “Did anyone else hear a crack?”

“I did,” Shuri, Jane and Tony all agreed in unison. Doctor Strange nodded.

“Might have been the crack of my head against a pillar,” Darcy grumbled. None of the Asgardians answered.

Thor stalked forwards, a severe frown on his face as he approached the hollow and Peter took that as his queue to step closer too.

With each step his anticipation rose. His heart beat faster. Two meters away he took a deep breath and held it until he made it to the edge of the crater.

He released it with a resigned sigh at the luminous, blue grow still radiating out of the Tesseract at the bottom of the basin.

“Well, that didn’t work,” Jane announced matter-of-factly.

“Mew-mew didn’t even scratch it,” Darcy pointed out despondently.

“Anything else you’d like to try, brother?” Loki asked scathingly.

“Loki, hush, Odin ordered, his troubled gaze moving from the failed results of Thor’s attempt to his son’s face.

“Perhaps you’d like to try “get help” and this time I’ll throw you. I’m sure your dense head will-”

“Loki!” Odin bellowed. However even when Loki turned to him, looking ready to turn his razor-sharp tongue on the older god, Odin’s eyes stayed on Thor, watching as he leapt down into the hole.

He landed beside his hammer, where it lay in the dirt several feet from the cube, handle upwards as if waiting for Thor’s arrival.

He crouched down, hand wrapping slowly, almost tenderly around the leather before grasping it and slowly lifting the weapon.

He stared at it for a second, his eyes soft but pained, then tossed it up, out of the crater, almost crushing Peter’s toes, before jumping out in the opposite direction and landing beside his father and brother.

Peter looked from Thor, hand clenching reflexively at his side, to the hammer sitting abandoned at his feet. He crouched down for a better look at the legendary weapon. His eyes traced greedily down the handle, excitement peaking, then plummeting as he reached the metal.

He understood now why Thor had looked so pained, and why he’d discarded his trusted and true weapon. There, along one face of the metal, was a wide crack - it wasn’t the Tesseract that had been broken by the impact, it was Mjolnir.

Peter reached out, fingers tentative and breath held with horrified wonder, the likes of which one would feel when seeing a priceless work of art that had been damaged. He grasped the handle and lifted it to get a better look at the damage. The crack was deep, running several centimeters into the metal, but however the head had been forged, it was holding together well despite the fissure.

“I must go to Nidavellir, father,” Thor was telling Odin. “I will ask the dwarves to forge me a new weapon for the coming fight.”

Odin nodded solemnly, “I will send men with you, Starkson has raised concerns about the dwarves that must be addressed.”

“Perhaps we can mend it?” Peter suggested, just loud enough to interrupt the two Asgardians. He looked to Shuri, who was clearly already running through hypotheses in her head, to Tony, who was merely gaping alternately between Peter and the hammer.

“Peter, are you _holding_ Thor’s hammer?” he asked

Peter gave him a questioning look, “Yes?”

Tony turned to Thor, mouth opening to speak but Thor was faster, “My hammer is broken, Stark - wielding it is no longer reserved for those who are worthy.”

Tony huffed but settled back to observe as Peter and Shuri started to discuss options.

“I mean, vibranium is possible,” Shuri announced. “I’d want to get a better understanding of whatever it’s made from just now but it might be worth a try.” Peter looked to Thor for his thoughts but he was already murmuring with Odin again, not paying them any mind. “Let me have a closer look,” Shuri demanded.

Peter slipped his hand from the strap and passed it to the other teenager, only to shriek in shocked pain as she promptly dropped it straight onto his foot.

“Peter!  Are you ok?” Tony cried, instantly at his side.

“I’m sorry,” Shuri whispered, aghast, “It just slipped from my hand, I didn’t think it would be that heavy!”

“It’s fine,” Peter promised, because, while his toes would surely be bruised from the weight, it really wasn’t too heavy, “But if you could _move it off my foot before it break any more of my toes, then that would be great_!” he told her through clenched teeth.

“Sorry!” she said again before ducking to move it.

Only it didn’t move.

She paused, then wrapped her other hand around the handle, put her back into it, then tugged again.

It was immovable.

“Oh ho ho, ‘no longer reserved for those who are worthy’, huh Point Break?” Tony snickered.

Thor, for his part, looked nonplussed.

“Can you save the schoolyard name-calling until _after_ you get it off my foot?” Peter asked again but Tony only patted his shoulder consolingly.

“You’ll have to move it yourself, buddy. Only those who are worthy can wield that paperweight.”

Peter groaned but bent over, knocking Shuri’s hands away, lifting the hammer again and turning to Thor questioningly.

The god looked both relieved and stunned. He reached his hand out and, after a bit of a wobble in Peter’s hand, Mjolnir shot back across the hall to its rightful owner. He looked the hammer over once more, fingers running carefully along the broken surface. “It seems you still have some life in you, old friend.”

“And like you might have some competition for Asgard’s throne,” Loki pointed out with a nod towards Peter.

Peter’s eyes widened and he raised his hands in front of him as all three Asgardian’s looked at him consideringly. “Whoa now, nobody said anything about being a king. I’ve got other things that I’ve got to do, like trig and decathlon, and giving tourists directions! I don’t have time to rule another planet!  No thank you.”

Thor smiled, seemingly amused by his vehement response. “Very well, you may leave the ruling of Asgard to me. Perhaps when you have grown much larger and reached manhood we might hunt bilgesnipe together. On Asgard it is-”

“No, no way,” Tony interrupted, “There will be no hunting of any bilgesnipe, not for my kid,” he insisted.

“But the hunting of the bilgesnipe is a great honour,” Thor murmured, perplexed. “I am sure once your son will be a fine huntsman once he gains a bit more muscle; he has already grown at an extraordinary rate, unless you kept him secreted from me last I visited Midgard?”

Peter’s face turned redder the more Thor spoke and he could see Tony’s ears doing the same.

“I’m fifteen,” he whimpered in protest.

“Truly?” Thor asked with an insulting amount of shock, “You look years younger! So small and slim - I can see that you are Stark’s son.”

“We’re not actually related,” Peter pointed out to the three gods.

“He’s adopted, actually, or near enough,” Tony grumbled, both him and Peter chafing at the slights to their size.

“Ah, I see. I’m glad your adoption has had better fortunes than my brother’s,” he beamed, ignoring the scathing glares from both Tony and Loki.

“The bar wasn’t set very high then,” Tony muttered.

“Enough of this childish taunting, there is too much at stake to waste time,” Odin ordered. “Thor, you will be going to Nidavellir. Starkson has travelled back in time and believes that the dwarves may be under Thanos’ rule. Speak with Heimdall, have him turn his gaze towards the forge. If it is safe, take a group of soldiers with you and see if anything can be done. If Thanos or his men are in residence, we shall reconvene to discuss our next step. We will need the dwarves’ skills to prepare for this fight.”

Thor nodded solemnly, eyes looking at Peter with new curiosity before turning back to his father. “If it is safe, I will send a messenger with whatever news Heimdall is able to give before I leave, and return as swiftly as I can,” he promised before turning to the door with a swish of his cloak.

“Once my son has left for Nidavellir, you may return to Midgard,” Odin said, addressing the humans once again. “The strongest weapons on Asgard have not been able to destroy that stone. While I doubt anything on Midgard would prove superior, I wish you the best of fortunes in your task. While you do so, Asgard will prepare for war.”

The ominous pronouncement seemed to ring through the hall. Peter certainly felt himself standing a bit straighter in response to the declaration and the terrifying thoughts it led to.

“That’s well and good but how can we contact you to keep each other informed of any changes?” Doctor Strange asked. “Without as Asgardian on Earth to donate fresh memories, I doubt we will be able to open any more portals,” he pointed out.

“You need not worry, sorcerer. Loki will be accompanying you.”

“What?” Darcy asked, unamused.

“What?!” Loki exclaimed, outraged.

“ _No._ ” Tony said, flatly.

 

“Let’s think about this,” Tony insisted as Odin instructed Heimdall to open the bifrost to Midgard, completely ignoring all of Tony’s (and Jane’s and Darcy’s) protests. “Last time he came to Earth he tried to _enslave the whole of humanity!_ How about you give us another one of your men, anyone else, and we take them with us instead?”

“For once, I happen to agree with Stark,” Loki said, as if pained to admit any similarities to Tony.

“Loki is doing much better since then,” Odin offered lightly, ignoring Loki’s input. Both Tony and Loki scoffed, then frowned at each other in distaste. “And I will have Heimdall keeping an eye on him, if he starts to behave recklessly, he will be summoned back to Asgard to continue his incarceration.”

“And you couldn’t have done that last time?” Tony huffed.

“The bifrost was broken,” Odin replied, nodding to Heimdall to open the portal only for Tony to grasp him by the shoulder and turn him until they were looking at each other, face to face.

“Your son killed good men and women last time he came to Earth,” he snapped. “Protecting my people is my job and I take it very seriously.”

Odin’s disinterest quickly gave way to empathy as he took in Tony’s expression. “I understand your anger, Stark. However sometimes, to do what is best for our people, past conflicts must be put aside to work together. Do you have no-one on your team that you have fought with in the past?”

Tony scowled, looking away from Odin in reluctant acceptance. Odin, in turn, glanced to Loki, who was similarly looking away from everyone, before continuing. “Furthermore, the Loki who carried out the attack on your lands was not the son I knew. After he fell from the bifrost and I thought him lost, he spent a year at Thanos’ mercy. Though he has not told me as such, I worry that Thanos was not kind.”

Peter stared at Loki. The god had admitted an acquaintance with the titan earlier in the day, and Peter knew that the Chitauri attack on New York had been organised by him too… but hearing that Loki had been in Thanos’ company for a full year was horrifying to Peter, and, unfortunately, also extremely helpful if Loki could provide any new information about him.

For now, he turned his attention back to Tony, watching the man’s emotions war with his logic until the latter finally won out and he lowered his hand with a weary sigh.

“Fine, but if he tries anything I will not be held responsible for retaliating.”

“That is your prerogative, Stark,” Odin allowed then beckoned them towards the open bifrost behind him that looked much more fantastical than P.A.M. had.

As a group they headed into the portal, Doctor Strange taking the lead at a brisk pace as Loki slunk along near the back.

“You will be hearing from us soon, son of Stark,” Odin promised him as he stepped into the portal. Peter tried to glance back to nod but the golden, domed room had already vanished and, seconds later, he had appeared on the lawn in front of the compound, a smoking ring of burnt grass beneath his feet.

Peter barely had time to glance at the group around him before a sparking portal was appearing in front of Doctor Strange.

“I must inform the other masters of our progress, I’ll return when I can,” he said promptly before the portal snapped closed behind him. Loki eyed the spot curiously but didn’t voice any questions.

“Let’s go tell everyone here the good news too, shall we?” Darcy asked the group cheerfully.

“We didn’t manage to destroy the stone yet though,” Peter pointed out as they started walking towards the nearest door.

A finger waggled disapprovingly in his face, “Nuh uh uh, no negativity allowed. Each step is progress and progress is good. We’re already much more prepared for the big bad than we would have been otherwise,” she insisted.

Well, that was true, he’d admit… “Ok Darcy, only positive thoughts for now. Let’s tell everyone what we’ve learnt.”

He reached the door, stepping inside only to find the rest of the group already waiting for them, all looking eager and hopeful for good news. Peter took them all in, looking around the amazing group of people who had come together to help him and suddenly feeling a bit overwhelmed as they all looked to him for news.

“We made it,” he told them with a breathy laugh of relief. “And we got-”

His words fell short as his eyes reached the far end of the group, taking in the new face standing at the end.

“I don’t know you,” he declared with a perplexed frown.

“No, you don’t,” the woman replied with an amused grin, making Peter realise how strange a greeting that probably appeared to someone new.

“Sorry. Uh, hello, I’m Peter” he said awkwardly, “Who are you?”

“She’s with me,” a deep voice called through the open door a few meters behind the group. A tall man, cloaked in dark leather and with an eyepatch covering one eye stepped out of the shadows. “Meet Carol Danvers,” Fury told the group. “The first avenger.”

Peter turned back to the woman, suddenly much more interesting than a super-spy. He’d never heard of her. Who was she? What powers did she have? When he’d sent out the call for everyone and anyone, he hadn’t actually expected any new players! He could feel the questions starting to bubble up in his chest, about to burst out but someone else found their voice first.

“Fury, were you just hiding in that room to make an entrance?” Tony asked, apparently less stunned at the revelation.

“Stark,” Fury growled, “We don’t have time for-”

“He was,” Carol said with a smirk, “He hasn’t changed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I was stuck at like 800 words for ages and then suddenly opened this up and poured the rest out in a few hours!  
> I don’t remember exactly how Dark World ended so we’re going with the Asgardians not mentioning anything about the reality stone to Jane.  
> Author confessions - I forgot that the reality stone was in reach once they reached Asgard. Haha, whoops, fixed that here. Odin was just being a jerk again.  
> And sorry, no Hela. Believe me I LOVED the thought of her kicking Thanos' ass and then maybe running off with the Guardians, but I can't see her being so willing...


	31. Breathe, then Reconsider

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of notes at the end of this one but two important ones at the start...
> 
> Firstly - I doubt I'll post again before the 28th April so let's call this one this fic's 1 year birthday post! Can't believe it's come this far and received such an incredible response! Over 1500 comments, over 5000 kudos, and over 100,000 hits. You guys blow me away! Also over 100,000 words as of this chapter, so go me! Thank you all for the support and love!
> 
> On a less happy note...  
> PLEASE DO NOT POST ABOUT ENDGAME IN THE COMMENTS! I DON'T CARE IF IT'S JUST YOUR FEELINGS ABOUT IT, I DON'T WANT TO KNOW ANYTHING!!! I'll see it on Friday evening, Japan time, and I am really upset that I've already had a comment about it. I know the person who posted it didn't mean anything bad, but people honestly don't want to know ANYTHING so please respect that.  
> Same goes for people commenting on this chapter.  
> Please give me and other readers who don't get it yet some consideration and respect.

“So…”

They were back at the same table in the same meeting room they’d been using since Peter first travelled back in time and started to explain things to a horrified Tony. Where at first there’d just been two of them, quickly joined by Doctor Strange, the group had grown and grown since then and now the room was full to the brim. All the seats were filled and several of them were left standing or leaning on the walls including, at one end of the room, holographic representations of the group of heroes still assisting from Wakanda. 

Peter stood at the opposite end of the room, at the head of the table with Carol to his left beside Fury, and a displeased Tony on his right. The reason for his foul mood was lingering behind Peter, the only person standing at his end of the room - Loki.

Tony wasn’t the only one sending foul glares in his direction, almost half the table looked willing to strangle the god if given the chance, so Peter decided to push on before anyone acted on their hostile thoughts.

“First thing’s first, P.A.M. worked. Odin’s back in Asgard, has promised us the support of his armies and Thor is in-the-know too. They’re on the lookout for Dr Banner and the Guardians and, most importantly, we have the space stone. The bad news is that nothing we tried on Asgard could destroy it, including Mjolnir which cracked. Mr Loki is here in case we need to contact Asgard again immediately, and because he is the only person besides myself who has first-hand experience with Thanos.”

He looked around the table, pleased when several people nodded in acceptance even though they still looked displeased with the situation. Some, however, didn’t waver.

“And what if we don’t feel like playing house with someone who tried to enslave the entirety of Earth?” Fury asked, his voice playing at airy but with a hard edge.

Peter’s heart started to thud in his chest. He’d been in charge since he arrived back in time, the one with all the information and a vague plan of attack, and everyone else had fallen in line and supported him - nobody had actually objected to anything he’d decided so far but he should have been ready for some unwillingness to join forces with a former enemy, particularly one who had caused as much damage as Loki had.

He couldn’t help instinctively looking to Tony for support, but the man’s face was more closed off than he’d ever seen it. For a moment, Peter floundered. 

Then he remembered the cold burn that had swept through him as his whole body was torn apart, breaking down into atoms, and he straightened, expression becoming hard and resolute as he turned back to Fury.

“If that is the case, then I will have to ask you to leave.”

The whole table sat up straighter as he turned from Fury to run his gaze over the rest of them, “Same goes for anyone else. I meant what I said when this began - now is not the time for us to be fighting with each other. If you care about protecting the universe from Thanos, you’ll put any grudges behind you and take all the help you can get because we’re going to need it.” He turned back to look Fury in the eye, “If you still feel that way, then I’m sorry, but I’ve got to look at the bigger picture. Of the two of you, Mr Loki has experience with Thanos, and doesn’t seem bad to have in a fight. If you’ve got more than that to offer, please tell me now.”

He waited, patiently, for Fury to offer a response, but the man simply levelled him with a long, considering stare before sitting back in his seat with a nod.

Peter almost didn’t want to look to Tony, knowing the man felt similar to Fury on the matter, but he forced himself to trust in the knowledge that the man had followed his lead this far and glanced his way.

He was frowning at Loki when Peter turned to him, but looked back as soon as he sensed Peter’s eyes on him. The pinched expression on his face relaxed slightly to offer Peter a nod, but he could easily read the tension still filling Tony’s body. Clearly, of everything so far, this was the biggest sticking point he’d reached - the first time he’d had to truly do something he didn’t like to in the name of fighting Thanos.

“I’m afraid you will be disappointed if you think I can offer much insight into Thanos’ crazed head, mortal” Loki offered suddenly from his corner, the first thing he’d said since they had returned to Earth.  If he’d been hoping to earn any goodwill from the group, his cold words had the opposite effect. Stony glares turned his way and Peter refrained from groaning aloud as the animosity he’d been working to reduce peaked back up again.

“Then what can you tell us, Mr Loki?” he asked, speaking as one would to a skittish child and earning a scathing glare and scoff in return which he ignored. “Odin implied you spent nearly a year in Thanos’ company before the attack on Manhattan, and since I spent less than an hour fighting him, I’d say that makes you more of an expert; surely you can offer some insight?”

If anything, Loki’s sneer grew colder, though, after a moment, Peter decided it wasn’t directed at him or anyone else in the room as Loki turned back to studiously glaring at the floor.

“I don’t remember much.”

“How convenient,” Tony muttered irritably.

“What do you remember?” Peter prompted, making sure to keep his words as gentle as before.

Loki looked back to him then, but where before he’d been aggrieved by the tone, this time he barely seemed to notice. His lips were pinched and his gaze distant even as he met Peter’s eyes.

“I remember the emotions I felt throughout my time with him, from that I can tell you that benevolence is not a word Thanos knows,” he murmured, “I only remember a few snippets of memories; nothing is clear, even the memories I do recall are… hazy… distant.”

He looked away again, turning towards the floor with a clenched jaw, as if the admission had angered him. 

It certainly hadn’t been what Peter had expected. He’d hoped that Loki would have more insight into Thanos’ thoughts and plans than anyone else and that he didn’t was a bigger blow than he’d expected.

He glanced around the room, trying to recollect himself when he noticed something else instead.

Natasha’s blue-tinted hologram had stiffened almost imperceptibly. Peter wouldn’t have realised if not for Steve giving her a questioning look. She stayed thoughtfully silent for a moment more, her eyes weighing Loki’s worth where they’d been cold and distant before.

“Nat?” Steve asked gently, less of a push and more a gentle question as to whether she wanted to share her thoughts.

She glanced to him, then her eyes flickered to Bucky for a fraction of a second before turning to the group.

“‘Hazy. Distant.’” she quoted Loki. “Clint described his memories before the helicarrier in the same way.”

The implication in her words was lost on Peter, but Tony sat up straighter, shoulders stiffening defensively. Steve stared, wide-eyed at Natasha, before his head whipped around towards Loki, taking him in as if they had never met before. Fury leaned forward slightly, the frown on his face deepening, “Are you suggesting that Loki, the one to send a giant robot after his brother and destroy a small town in New Mexico, was actually being controlled by Thanos during the attack on New York?”

The rest of the table, those who hadn’t made the connection the others had, became equally alert at the question, looking from Fury, to Natasha. 

“It is a possibility, sir.”

The entire room, physical and holographic, turned to Loki who seemed happy to ignore their glances, keeping his attention on the floor.

“Well? Is that true?” Tony snapped when no response was forthcoming.

“The old man did say he was different when he appeared on Earth,” Darcy whispered when Loki stayed silent. “I mean, he seemed a bit… excessive with everything in New Mexico with Thor, but I wouldn’t have said he was actually insane…”

Jane nodded at her side, brows furrowed thoughtfully, “And during the dark elves’ attack, Loki was… angry. I’d even say hurt, but not crazed.”

The more anyone spoke, lending more support to the theory, the further Loki shrunk in on himself, attempting to disappear from view into the corner he’d claimed as his own.

“Mr Loki?” Peter asked, tone softening further to something he’d used with a scared animal, “Is that true?”

“Would it have mattered?” Loki finally responded bitterly, the bitter question an answer in itself.

The room was silent, then…

“It would,” Steve promised. “It does,” he said, staring resolutely at Loki. One of his hands was clenched tightly around Bucky’s wrist.

 

A solemn silence filled the room, nobody certain how to move on from such an unexpected turn of events, particularly those who had been most vehemently against Loki’s presence. Even Peter felt blindsided. He’d been hoping Loki would be able to offer invaluable insight that no-one else could provide, at least until they found Gamora, but finding out he was as much a victim of Thanos as anyone else was an unpleasant surprise. Even more so in that he had been punished for his role.

“Someone’s really going to have to give me a bit of background on everything I’ve missed while I was out of town, because I’m feeling a bit lost right now,” Carol declared, looking confused as the silence continued.

Peter turned to her, remembering they had converged on the meeting room originally for introductions and an update on their plans; Loki had, unintentionally, side-tracked them very swiftly.

“I’ll get you the files,” Fury promised with a short nod.

“You missed the giant wormhole opening up above New York, and the alien army that came through it?” Shuri asked, disbelievingly. “Even Wakanda got the news about that! How far ‘out of town’ were you?”

“Oh, I’d say a few thousand lightyears out of town, give or take a few powers of ten,” Tony chimed in, taking even Fury by surprise as he scrolled, indifferently, through something on his phone. “Captain Marvel? I like it,” he added, before swiping his hand across the screen, sending the information on it upwards, to be displayed holographically above the table.

“Those are the highest level of confidential,” Fury growled, but his words sounded more as if he were feigning anger for the sake of it than he actually felt that way.

“I was a consultant,” Tony said blithely, “How was I meant to consult without getting all the information about the band? Remember that time I found out about those weapons you were making with the Tesseracts power? J.A.R.V.I.S., bless his soul, grabbed a bit more than just that while he was rustling through your servers.” He noted the scowl on Carol’s face and chuckled, “Oh, considering Ms. Danvers was the one to give you the Tesseract in the first place, I don’t think making weapons with it was part of your deal, was it Nick?”

Fury’s anger was no longer tampered by reluctant acceptance but he turned to Carol with an unapologetically raised eyebrow, “I did what needed to be done.”

She gave him another glare, but let it be for then when Peter spoke up, “Wait, are you actually an alien?”

“If you call people from Boston aliens,” she quipped. “I’m born and bred in America, had a run in with some aliens, got blown up by energy harvested from the Tesseract that I ended up absorbing, then kidnapped by a race called the Kree. Had a bit of a falling out, then flew off to help other races escape their control. Left Fury with my pager if he needed help; didn’t hear anything from him until a few days ago, and it took a few days to travel back to the right solar system.”

Peter mouthed the words ‘the right solar system’ as she finished speaking, barely able to comprehend everything she’d just said. Yeah, he knew aliens were real, and yeah he’d met Starlord, a human far from home… but… still…

Wow…

Carol met his awed gaze with a smirk and a wink.

She was so cool. He couldn’t wait to tell Ned.

“And what powers, exactly, does a Captain Marvel have?” Sam’s hologram asked.

Carol didn’t respond verbally, instead she closed her eyes for a few, brief seconds, then opened them again to reveal miniature suns where her eyes had been. At the same time, her hair began to lift from her shoulders, and a golden haze flickered around her body. She held up a fist, the same light coalescing into a burning flame around it.

“We might want to move outside before I give you the rest of the demonstration,” she declared before the light began to slowly fade away.

“Wow,” Peter whispered, “You’re like a  _ real _ superhero!”

Tony gave a wounded scoff, “And what are the rest of us?”

Peter rolled his eyes at Tony’s moue, “She’s like one from the comics!” he explained.

“I for one,” Wanda started after a moment of awkward silence, standing up from the table, “would love to see a demonstration of your powers. Some of us have predicted that people with powers originating from the stones might be able to destroy them - do you think, since your powers come from the Space stone, that you could destroy it?”

VIsion, stood on the opposite side of the table, shifted slightly at the question, as if he wanted to interrupt but wasn’t sure how, but Wanda kept her gaze pointedly fixed on Carol.

Carol looked from her to the resolute expressions worn by the other occupants of the room, finishing on Fury, “If that’s our game plan and everyone agrees to it, then I can give a shot.”

“We could do a lot of good with the power in that stone,” Fury pointed out, but once again he sounded resigned, merely bemoaning a loss than truly attempting to argue.

“And with that stone Thanos can wipe out half of the universe,” Steve was quick to remind him and he gave another mournful sigh before standing.

“Alright then, let’s go blow some shit up.”

 

They gathered outside, Carol standing with the Tesseract on the charred ring of grass left by the bifrost. The rest of them stood, at Carol’s insistence, a good twenty meters back.

“How are you going to do it?” Shuri shouted across the space between them. “Do you need something to hold the Tesseract?”

“It’ll be fine like this,” Carol called back, crouching down and easily digging a small ditch in the grass with her hands then placing the Tesseract in it to keep it in place.

She straightened up and glanced to the group, face serious. “Everyone ready?” 

Peter nodded and the rest of the group must have agreed too for she started to glow again and he watched in awe as the power surrounding her once more pulled her hair up against gravity’s pull.

“Let’s hope this doesn’t blow up and destroy the whole planet,” she called back before her feet lifted from the ground and she darted straight up into the air.

Peter would probably be a bit more concerned about the possibility of the Earth being destroyed in the backlash if not for the fact that she was  _ actually flying! _

“Oh my god, she’s actually flying,” he whispered under his breath, “So cool.”

A shoulder nudged into his, “Didn’t you know, all  _ real _ superheroes can fly,” Tony teased. Fortunately Peter didn’t have to look away from the golden ball of light that was Carol Danvers in order to stomp on Tony’s foot in retaliation.

Carol, high enough to look more like a large bird than a human, seemed to glow brighter and brighter until she really did resemble a miniature sun.

She descended slightly, drifting downwards until she was almost the same distance from the stone as they were and Peter could feel the power radiating out of her and setting the hairs across his body on end.

“Everyone ready?” she called.

Peter glanced around the group, seeing most of them shifting slightly in place, spreading their feet slightly wider to brace themselves for whatever Carol was about to unleash.

“We’re ready!” he called back.

“Alright, in 3… 2… 1.”

The beam of energy that erupted from her hands was like a geyser, bursting from her with such force that Peter didn’t even see it traverse the distance between Carol and the ground.

He felt it though. The moment the energy beam (kamehameha, it was definitely a kamehameha) hit the Tesseract, the whole ground rippled outwards from the epicentre, knocking most of them off their feet regardless of how well they had been braced. Peter rode out the movement with a hand on the floor to balance himself. He forced his eyes to stay open, looking through the dust and dirt to see Carol’s beam continuing to drive the Tesseract further into the earth. It was only when the energy vanished, as suddenly as it had appeared, that Peter realised it had been releasing a low hum that suddenly left the grounds echoing with a resounding silence when it ceased.

Carol dropped like a stone, as if her body had suddenly remembered it possessed mass and was as equally affected by gravity as everything else. He expected her to slow at the last second, taking the force from the descent, but instead she landed with a thud, her legs taking the impact with ease.

She peered down into the small crater she’d created in the lawn then back to the group as they started to approach, stepping carefully over ridges of upturned earth. “No luck,” she called, lifting the overwhelmingly resilient Tesseract up into the air for them to see. It still lacked even a scuff from the attack, in fact, if anything, it seemed to glow brighter in Carol’s hand. “Back to the drawing board?”

Peter sighed, looking to the pinking sky, “Let’s brainstorm over dinner.”

Carol took a single, effortless leap, covering the distance between them with ease and passing the space stone back to Peter with an apologetic, “Sorry it didn’t work.”

Peter shrugged, holding the stone carefully yet firmly between this finger tips, “You tried,” he said as they all started walking back towards the building. “We’ll need something safe to store this in,” he pointed out, looking to Tony.

“Lunchboxes work well,” Carol suggested and Peter really wanted to hear detailed version of her story rather than the abridged one.

“I’ll dig something out,” Tony promised, ruffling Peter’s hair. “When Gandalf gets back we’ll ask him to do his mumbo jumbo so nobody else can take it, until then, we’ll keep it close.”

 

Peter ended up with a silver briefcase for the Tesseract that sat in his lap for the length of dinner. Its weight seemed to just grow heavier and heavier as the meal passed and no-one was able to put forth any plausible suggestions to destroy it. To Peter it felt like each success was followed by an even larger obstacle that fell in their path. To make it worse, Tony barely joined the conversation at all, instead glaring at his food and sending subtle glances towards the Asgardian seated at the other end of the table from him.

Peter was scraping the last of his dessert from his plate when Vision spoke up again. “Loath as I am to raise the topic again for fear of sounding as if this is truly my wish,” he started, as verbose as ever, “But if we are stalling on the destruction of the space stone, then I implore you to consider making plans to destroy the mind stone. While I value my life as much as the rest of you, I think anyone of us would agree to sacrifice themselves if that were what it took to defeat Thanos.”

It was the third time he’d made that argument, yet this time, tellingly, the group crowded around the table stayed solemnly silent after his appeal. The lack of theories with regards to destroying the space stone and Vision’s far too accurate assessment that anyone in the room would make the same decision in his place, was enough to stem any of the objections that had been swiftly forthcoming before.

“No.”

Wanda stared resolutely back at him, her whole body stiff in contrast to the slight slouch in Vision’s form. “We’re not killing one of our own when we still have other options.” She glared around the table, daring anyone to argue with her.

“Well…” Shuri said thoughtfully, throwing her hands up defensively when Wanda’s head snapped in her direction. “Hey, whoa, I’m not going to argue with you, I was just thinking… Vision, you’re an android, correct? And the mind stone is just one… one  _ aspect _ of your being, right?” She barely waited for Vision to nod in agreement. “Before we jump straight to martyrdom, I’d like to have a look, see if there might not be a way to… untangle the mind stone from everything else.”

Before anyone could get their hopes up, Tony shook his head, “If that were possible, believe me, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation, but it’s not. It’s impossible to untangle the stone from the remnants of J.A.R.V.I.S. and Ultron that his consciousness was built on.”

Shuri’s expression grew obstinate, “I’d like a chance to see that for myself, Tony. Or are you worried that I’ll be able to do it when you couldn’t?”

For once Tony didn’t rise to the taunt, observing her wearily but remaining thoughtfully silent.

“Do not underestimate my sister, Tony,” T’Challa interrupted, cautioning Tony gently. His eyes flickered with amusement, “I might have got more than my fair share of beauty, but Shuri got more than her fair share of brains. If anyone could figure out a way to separate the stone from Vision, I believe it will be her.”

Despite the embarrassed smack Shuri delivered to T’Challa’s arm, she preened like a peacock under the praise, settling into pleasantly chuffed when Tony gave a sigh, a nod then a wan smile.

“Let’s focus on the space stone first,” he started, holding up a hand to delay her objections. “If we don’t get anywhere in the next few days, then you can move on to thinking about the mind stone. If you can remove it safely, then I’ll acknowledge your superiority and thank you for saving a friend,” he said, voice overflowing with sincerity that he normally concealed behind sarcasm and teasing. He waited until Shuri nodded in acceptance of the terms then pushed his chair back and stood from the table. “I’m going to disappear for the night, I suggest everyone gets a good night’s sleep after the last few days; we’ve all worked hard. Let’s get started on the space stone in the morning.”

He slipped from the room with a half-hearted wave goodbye, leaving the whole table a bit taken aback by his sudden exit when the sun had barely set.

Conversation was slowly starting back up around the table by the time Peter finally drew his gaze away from the empty doorway and met May’s equally concerned gaze and then Pepper’s soft, sad smile.

“Give him a half hour, he usually takes about that long to figure out his own emotions, then go see him after that,” she instructed. “I’m going to have to leave him to you tonight, May and I need to head back to the city for business now that Asgard is done and dusted.”

Peter cringed slightly at her choice of words but waved off the pinched expression on her face when she realised what she’d said.

“Anything I need to know about?” he asked. 

May and Pepper looked at each other, sharing small grins, “No, definitely not,” May promised him with a smirk.

“You just focus on yourself and saving the world here, we’ll take care of everything else,” Pepper explained, then both her and May stood, took turns pressing kisses to his forehead, then called their goodbyes to the rest of the room as they headed out.

 

He killed half an hour in his room. Even with everything going on, he still had work to finish for the tutors that came in twice a week, as well as keeping a stress journal for Dr Moor, his therapist. Then, of course, he filled a few minutes playing with Webber. To be safe, he gave Tony forty minutes to ‘figure out his emotions’ before heading down to the lab in a pair of old sweats and a soft, well-worn hoodie, Webber practically tripping him with each step.

Despite Tony implying he was heading to his room, Peter still expected to find him in the lab, working on something or other even after suggesting everyone get a good night’s rest. Walking up to the glass walls to find all the lights off and the room conspicuously empty was a bit of a shock. 

He was about to ask F.R.I.D.A.Y. when she preempted his question.

“The boss is in his room, Peter. Nobody’s allowed in the lab until morning.”

“Thanks F.R.I.,” he replied, stepping back into the elevator, “Can you take me up to his rooms?”

Peter stopped at Tony’s bedroom door, hearing no movement inside even with his advanced hearing. He raised a hand and knocked gently, incase Tony really had gone straight to sleep. There was a moment’s pause, then he heard Tony’s voice quietly ask his A.I. who it was at the door. Seconds later it opened.

“You ok kiddo?” Tony asked, the moment Peter stepped through the door. He looked tired, a Starkpad held loosely in one hand, but he was much more alert than he had been when he left the kitchen.

“I’m…” Peter wanted to say ‘fine’ but once again it felt like the world - the universe - was against him each step of the way. Instead, he chuckled and plopped down on the bed beside Tony, “Nobody ever told me how hard this saving the universe schtick is.”

Tony gave a half-hearted laugh too, “Pretty sure I said something along those lines a few weeks back. Except I probably didn’t use the word schtick - not using the word schtick is pretty much my schtick.”

Peter laughed, a bit livelier this time, then let himself collapse sideways until he was leaning against Tony’s shoulder. Tony wrapped an arm around him, pulling him slightly closer and adjusting them both to be more comfortable. They lapsed into a comfortable yet expectant silence, neither wanting to break it despite knowing it would happen, contenting themselves with watching Webber jump up onto the bed and squeeze himself between their legs. Peter reached down with his free hand, the other somehow curled loosely into Tony’s shirt, and scritched absentmindedly behind his ears until he started pushing his head back into his hand for more.

“Are you ok, dad?” he asked quietly, an immeasurable time later.

It was a relief when Tony didn’t immediately try to reassure him, instead staying thoughtfully silent for long enough that Webber started to snore gently and Peter had to prompt him again. “It’s ok if you’re not,” he promised, words he was sure Tony had said to him many times in the last few weeks. “If you want, I’m sure Dr Moor would be able to make some time for you too,” he offered, despite knowing Tony’s aversion to therapists. It helped loosen his tongue, however, as he started speaking after a full body shudder of horror.

“No thanks Pete, me and my brain aren’t compatible with shrinks. I don’t need someone else to tell me how fucked up my head is.”

Rather than argue the point, Peter remained silent, twisting his body so that he was turned to face in towards Tony, his head laying over Tony’s heart, knowing both of them took comfort in the position.

“I just…” Tony finally started, paused, then closed his eyes before forcing the words from his mouth, “That’s two men now. Two men that I want to hate that I can’t, because they weren’t in control of their actions. Barnes… Bucky… I knew that one from the start, even before I found out what Hydra had made him do… but now Loki too…”

He trailed off again, lips pressing tightly together, preventing any more words from escaping.

“It’s ok dad,” he murmured, nuzzling further into Tony’s chest and wrapping his arms around him in a bear hug, “Do you know what this means? It just means you’re human,” he explained without giving Tony the chance to reply. “Nobody’s perfect and I’d much rather have a dad that felt strongly about doing the right thing and sometimes struggles to figure out what the right thing is than… than any other dad in the world.”

Both of Tony’s arms wrapped around Peter’s, one around his shoulders, the other cupping the back of his head and holding it in place as Tony brushed a shaky kiss into his curls. 

Peter didn’t say anything about the gentle tremors that ran through Tony’s body, or the dampness that slipped down Tony’s cheeks. He fell asleep warm and loved and with a renewed resolve to protect everyone he cared about.

  
  


_ Galaxies away… _

_ “Father, a third stone has returned to the planet the Jotun failed to conquer. What would you have us do?” _

_ Thanos looked down at his Black Order, his four most loyal children. “No-one will stand in the way of my quest to save the universe. Whomever is collecting the stones on that primitive planet is merely making my task easier.” _

_ He turned his attention to the golden gauntlet that rested on a plinth beside his throne, the six slots waiting to be adorned with the strongest stones in the universe. _

_ He reached out a hand to lift it then carefully pulled the gauntlet into place on his fist. _

_ “But perhaps it is a sign for us to advance our plans...”  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise Tony-whump at the end of this chapter. And somehow it ended up mostly being about Loki instead of Carol... ^^; 
> 
> Typo of the chapter - ...a golden haze flickered around her body. She held up a fish, the same light coalescing into a burning flame around it.
> 
> Notes about last chapter - I called Carol the first avenger in the last chapter because of the end scene credit in her movie in which Fury names the whole program after her. So yes Steve was born first, but she’s OG.  
> Also, I agree Shuri is a good person, don’t get me wrong on that. But imo if Steve can’t lift Mjolnir then I don’t think anyone else other than Peter can. 
> 
> And in conjunction with that note, yes the Bucky-issue was mentioned again this chapter. I think I’ve made my stance on both Steve and Bucky clear so please don’t comment bashing either of them. I know some of you don’t like them and that’s fine but I do so please stop telling me how much you hate them, I’ve had too many reviews like that recently and it’s really disheartening...
> 
> One more time - PLEASE! NO COMMENTS ABOUT ENDGAME!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Please cry with me in the comments.


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